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SIR  HENRY  IRVING 


PERCY  FITZGERALD 


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SIR  HENRY  IRVING 


A    BIOGRAPHY 


BY 

PERCY    FITZGERALD 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  LIFE  OF  DAVID  CARRICK,"  "FIFTY  YEARS 
OF  CATHOLIC  LIFE,"  "  I.ADV  JEAN,"  ETC. 


"As  in  a  theatre  the  eyes  of  men, 
After  a  well-grac'd  actor  leaves  the  stage, 
Are  idly  bent  on  him  that  enters  next." 


PHILADELPHIA 
GEORGE    W.    JACOBS    &    CO 
PUBLISHERS 


(All  rights  reserved.) 


£3 
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GEORGE   ALEXANDER 


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Preface 


THUS  early,  after  the  death  of  the  great  actor, 
I  venture  to  offer  this  new  and  revised 
account  of  his  very  romantic  life  and  work.  I  have 
dwelt  more  especially  on  the  former,  as  it  is  agreed 
that  herein  was  found  his  chief  power  or  attraction. 
It  is,  in  fact,  the  story  of  his  ever  engaging  cha- 
racter and  fashions  that  I  have  attempted  to  bring 
home  before  the  reader,  showing  him  in  his  habit 
as  he  lived. 

There  have  been  many  elaborate  accounts  of  his 
acting  and  managerial  career,  set  off  plentifully  with 
dates  of  performances,  casts  of  characters,  and  criti- 
cisms. These  things  have  beyond  doubt  their 
value ;  but  they  make  heavy  and  uninteresting 
reading.  You  cannot  see  the  wood  for  the  trees.  I 
prefer  to  let  the  agreeable  and  original  actor  pro- 
menade it  about  through  these  pages  according  to 
his  humour.  I  had  the  advantage  of  knowing  him 
for  some  thirty  years  ;  and  from  the  first,  as  will 
be  seen  here,  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  him 


vu 


viii  PREFACE 

and  his  following — hence  I  can  speak  with  full 
knowledge. 

The  present  is  practically  the  third  issue  of  this 
life.  It  was  written  under  Irving's  hearty  en- 
couragement, and  all  the  earlier  sheets  were  revised 
and  corrected  by  him.  However,  later  on  when  I 
came  to  dealing  critically  with  his  performances 
it  became  a  rather  too  delicate  matter  for  an 
actor's  supervision,  and  I  felt  that  it  was  better 
to  give  over  the  submission  of  the  sheets  to  him 
— I  am  afraid  not  exactly  to  his  satisfaction. 

It  has  been  thoroughly  revised — large  additions 
have  been  made  which  cover  a  period  of  some 
ten  years,  and  bring  the  work  down  to  his  lamented 
death. 

It  will  be  seen  that  I  have  written  independently 
and  freely.  Unlike  the  general  crowd  of  admirers, 
and  perhaps  flatterers,  for  whom  everything  in  their 
hero  was  '■'■  superbe ! ''  ''' niagnifique ! ''  "■dernier 
crif"  &c.,  I  have  pointed  out  all  that  might  seem 
faulty  or  exaggerated  to  trained  and  impartial 
judges.  I  have  dwelt  on  what  were  his  real  gifts 
and  merits,  as  well  as  on  their  limits.  Praising 
indiscriminately  is  no  praise  at  all. 

I  may  add  that  particular  attention  has  been 
given  to  the  illustrations  in  this  volume.  No  one 
has  been  so  copiously  "limned"  as  this  actor.  I 
myself  have  filled  some  twenty  huge  folios  with 
such  pictures.  I  may  call  attention  to  the  fine 
portrait  which  forms  the  frontispiece,  as  a  truly 
artistic  and  successful  rendering"  of  Irving-'s 
thoughtful    and    expressive    features,  adapted  as  it 


PREFACE  ix 

were  to  the  part  he  was  playing.  With  this  the 
reader  may  contrast  the  one  given  at  the  close  of 
the  volume,  which  shows  him  with  his  everyday 
countenance  and  costume,  the  former  worn  and 
sharpened — aged  also — by  the  wear  and  tear  of 
performances. 


Contents 


CHAPTER  I 

PAGE 

SCHOOL-DAYS  —  EARLY     TASTE     FOR     THE     STAGE  —  FIRST 

APPEARANCE   (1838 — 1 856)         .  .  .  .  I 


CHAPTER    n 

EDINBURGH    AND    THE   SCOTTISH    THEATRES    (1857 — 1859)    .  12 


CHAPTER  HI 

THE  ST.  James's  theatre — 'hunted  down' — the  new 

VAUDEVILLE   THEATRE — 'THE  TWO   ROSES  '    (1866)         .         33 


CHAPTER   IV 

'THE   BELLS' — WILLS'S    'CHARLES   I.'   (1871)  .  .         46 

CHAPTER    V 

'hamlet'  —  'OTHELLO' — '  MACBETH  ' — DEATH    OF    "THE 

COLONEL" — 'QUEEN   MARY  '    (1874)       .  .  .60 


xii  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    VI 

?    THE    LYCEUM — 
SYSTEM    AND    ASSISTANTS    (1878)  .  ,  .         81 


PAGE 

THE   NEW    MANAGER    OF    THE    LYCEUM — MISS    TERRY — HIS 


CHAPTER   Vn 

'THE   MERCHANT   OF   VENICE'    (1879) 


.       102 


CHAPTER  VIII 

'THE   CORSICAN    BROTHERS'    AND    'THE   CUP '    (1880)  .       1 13 

CHAPTER    IX 

'OTHELLO'    AND    'THE   TWO   ROSES  '   REVIVED   (1881)  ,       125 

CHAPTER  X 

'ROMEO   AND  JULIET' — THE   BANQUET   (1882)  .  .       140 

CHAPTER   XI 

'  MUCH    ADO   ABOUT   NOTHING  ' — AMERICAN  VISIT  ARRANGED 

(1882) 147 

CHAPTER  XII 

'  TWELFTH      NIGHT  '  —  '  THE       VICAR      OF      WAKEFIELD  '  — 

OXFORD   HONOURS   (1884)  ....       l6l 

CHAPTER  XIII 

'  FAUST  ' '  WERNER  ' — '  MACAIRE'  — THE     ACTOR'S     SOCIAL 

GIFTS   (1887)      .  .  .  .  .  .187 


CONTENTS  xiii 

CHAPTER  XIV 

PAGE 

'MACBETH' — 'THE   DEAD    HEART' — '  RAVENSWOOD  '   (1888)      20I 

CHAPTER    XV 
'king  lear' — 'becket'  (1892)     ....     220 

CHAPTER   XVI 

KING   ARTHUR' — CORPORAL    BREWSTER — HONOURS   (1893)      233 

CHAPTER   XVII 

SOCIAL  GIFTS  ......       247 

CHAPTER  XVIII 

SYMPTOMS   OF   DECAY  .  .  .  .  -255 

CHAPTER    XIX 

RING   DOWN    THE   CURTAIN   .....       272 

CHAPTER   XX 

CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION    .       ,       .   285 


List  of  Illustrations 


SIR   HENRY  IRVING  .  .  .  . 

From  a  Photograph  by  H.  H.  H.  Cameron. 

irving's  birthplace  at  KEINTON  MANDEYILLE 
irving's  first  playbill  .  .  .  , 

IRVING    ...... 

From  an  early  Photograph  by  Chancellor. 


IRVING  AND 


From  an  early  Photograph. 

IRVING  AS   M.ATTHIAS  IN   'THE   BELLS' 

IRVING  AS  JINGLE 

IRVING  AS  CHARLES  I.  ... 

IRVING  AS   HAMLET 

From  Onslow  Ford's  Statue. 

IRVING  AS  DUBOSC  .... 

From  a  Bust  by  the  Author. 

IRVING  AS  VANDERDECKEN 

ELLEN  TERRY     ..... 

From  an  early  Photograph  by  Elliott  and  Fry. 

IRVING  AS  HAMLET 

From  Edwin  Long's  Painting. 

ELLEN  TERRY  AS   PORTIA 

IRVING  AS  SHYLOCK 

XV 


Frontispiece 

Facing  page      r 

15 
23 

33 

46 
49 
56 

62 

73 

75 
85 

94 

103 
105 


Facing 

page 

122 

•> 

127 

» 

165 

)> 

167 

)) 

172 

n 

177 

») 

188 

» 

197 

IT 

214 

226 

xvi  LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 

THE  LYCEUM   LION  ..... 

RIVAL  HAMLETS         ..... 

IRVING   AS  THE  VICAR  AND   ELLEN  TERRY  AS  OLIVIA 

IRVING  AS  THE  VICAR  .... 

THE   REVIVAL  OF  '  FAUST  '   AT  THE   LYCEUM   THEATRE 

MEPHISTO,   THE  ACTOK  .... 

IRVING  AS   ROBERT  MACAIRE 

IRVING  IN   HIS  DRESSING-ROOM   AT   THE   LYCEUM 
From  a  Drawing  by  Paul  Renouard. 

IRVING  AS  CARDINAL  WOLSEY 

IRVING  AS  BECKET  ..... 

IRVING  READING  TENNYSON'S  '  HECKET '  IN  THE 
RESTORED  CHAPTER  -  HOUSE  OF  CANTERBURY 
CATHEDRAL       ......  „  228 

IRVING  AT   HOME  .....  „  24I 

'DON  QUIXOTE'        ......  „  253 

From  a  Drawing  by  Phil  JIay. 

ROBESPIERRE   REFLECTING         ....  „  265 

From  a  Drawing  by  Harry  Furniss. 

THE  NERVOUS  AND  SUSPICIOUS  ROBESPIERRE        .  .  „  267 

From  a  Drawing  by  Harry  Furniss. 

IRVING  WITH   MISS   LENA  ASHWELL  IN   'DANTE'  .  „  269 

IRVING  AS  DANTE  .....  „  270 

PROGRAMME  OF   IRVING'S  FAREWELL  PERFORMANCE  .  „  276 

IRVING'S  ROOM  AT  THE   LYCEUM    ....  „  284 

"  WHAT  A  KNIGHT  WE'RE  HAVING  ! "  .  .  „  288 

Cartoon  by  Linley  Sambourue. 

SIR  HENRY  IRVING.  .....  „  273 

From  a  late  Photograph  by  Histed. 


Irving's  Birthplack  at  Keinton  Mandevillk 

(The  house  on  the  right  is  where  the  great  actor  was  born  ) 

Photo  by  E.  6'.  Russell. 


To  face  /..  I . 


CHAPTER    I 

1838-1856 

SCHOOL-DAYS EARLY    TASTE    FOR    THE    STAGE 

FIRST    APPEARANCE 

HENRY  IRVING  was  born  at  Keinton, 
near  Glastonbury,  in  Somersetshire,  on 
February  6,  1838.  His  real  name  was  John  Henry 
Brodribb.  "The  last  place  God  made  "  has  been 
the  description  given  of  this  little  town — Keinton- 
Mandeville.  The  house  in  which  the  future  actor 
was  born  is  still  pointed  out — a  small  two-storied 
dwelling — lately  "  bought  in  "  for  ^600. 

Henry  Irving's  mother  was  Sarah  Behenna,  a 
woman  of  strong,  marked  character,  who  early  took 
the  child  into  Cornwall  to  her  sister  Penberthy. 
Thus  was  he  brought  up  among  miners  and  mining 
captains  in  a  district  "  stern  and  wild,"  where 
lessons  of  dogged  toil  and  perseverance  were  to 
be  learned.  The  earliest  books  he  read  were  his 
Bible,  some  old  English  ballads,  and  "  Don 
Quixote,"  a  character  which  he  had  long  had  a 
fancy  for  performing.  In  an  intimate  causerie  with 
his  and  my  friend  Joseph  Hatton,  he  strayed  back 

2  1 


2  SIR    HENRY    IRVING 

to  these  early  days  of  childhood,  when  he  called  up 
some  strikinor  scenes  of  those  old  mininor  associa- 
tions.  This  aunt  Penberthy  was  a  resolute,  striking 
woman,  firm  and  even  grim  of  purpose,  and  the 
scenes  in  which  she  figured  have  a  strong  flavour, 
as  Mr.  Hatton  suggests,  of  Currer  Bell's  stories. 

Shortly  after  his  birth  the  father  removed  to 
London,  but  the  wife — a  woman  of  purpose — 
resolved  to  bring  up  the  child  in  the  country. 
He  was  accordingly  left  to  the  care  of  his  aunt 
Penberthy,  married  to  a  strange  being,  captain  of 
a  Cornish  mine  near  St.  Ives.  As  Irving  told 
Mr.  Hatton,  one  day  the  giant  uncle  was  angry. 
"He  walked,"  said  Sir  Henry,  "into  the  kitchen 
where  we  youngsters  were,  and  began  to  smash 
everything  he  could  lay  his  hands  on.  He  took 
up  the  chairs  and  broke  them  across  his  knee, 
and  they  were  pretty  strong,  too — nothing,  how- 
ever, to  him  ;  he  snapped  them  as  if  they  had  been 
the  merest  sticks.  Drawers,  tables,  he  smashed 
everything  ;  then  walked  out  and  went  back  to 
the  mine.  We  were  all  terrified  while  this  was 
going  on.  As  for  me,  I  got  behind  the  door  or 
anywhere  else  out  of  his  way." 

But  the  tactful  aunt  healed  the  sore.  She  did 
not  scold.  But  when  the  captain  returned  in  the 
evening,  "  he  paused  at  the  open  doorway  of  the 
kitchen,  flung  back  his  chest,  and  gave  forth  a 
great  burst  of  laughter.  You  never  heard  such 
a  laugh  ;  it  was  tremendous.  My  aunt  laughed, 
too.  What  do  you  think  he  laughed  at.'*  The 
wreck  of  the  furniture  had  been  got  together  and 


SCHOOL-DAYS  3 

displayed  by  my  aunt,  as  if  the  whole  business  was 
a  huge  joke.  Broken  chairs,  table-legs,  a  cupboard 
door,  pieces  of  an  old  seat,  all  manner  of  things 
were  hung  upon  the  walls,  as  if  they  were  pictures, 
articles  of  virtu,  bric-a-brac.  And  this  was  all  that 
occurred.  There  was  no  scene  ;  only  the  laughter. 
During  the  next  day  or  two  the  place  was  put  to 
rights,  and  never  for  a  moment  did  the  affair  disturb 
the  happiness  of  the  household  ;  she  knew  how  to 
live  with  her  husband,  and  he  loved  her  in  his  big, 
devil-may-care  kind  of  way."  ^ 

He  was  early  sent  to  a  school  then  directed  by 
Dr.  Pinches,  in  George  Yard,  Lombard  Street, 
close  by  the  "George  and  Vulture,"  which  still 
happily  stands,  and  where  Mr.  Pickwick  always 
put  up  when  he  was  in  town.  There  were  about 
a  hundred  boys,  one  of  whom  was  called  Dickens. 
At  this  academy,  on  some  exhibition  day,  he  pro- 
posed to  recite  a  rather  gruesome  piece  called  '  The 
Uncle,'  to  which  his  preceptor  strongly  objected, 
when  he  substituted  the  more  orthodox  '  Defence 
of  Hamilton  Rowan,'  by  Curran. 

More  than  thirty  years  later,  when  the  boy  had 
become  famous,  and  was  giving  a  benefit  at  his 
own  theatre  to  a  veteran  player — Mr.  Creswick — 
the  latter,  coming  before  the  curtain,  related  to  the 
audience  this  little  anecdote.  "  I  was  once,"  he 
said,  "  invited  to  hear  some  schoolboys  recite 
speeches   previous    to    their   breaking   up    for    the 

'  Daily  News,  Oct.  i6,  1905.  Before  his  death,  the  actor 
was  dictating  to  Mr.  Austin  Brereton  a  long  and  minute  account 
of  these  early,  childish  days — which  has  recently  been  issued. 


4  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

holidays.  The  schoolmaster  was  an  old  friend  of 
mine,  whom  I  very  much  respected.  The  room 
was  filled  from  wall  to  wall  with  the  parents  and 
friends  of  the  pupils.  I  was  not  much  entertained 
with  the  first  part ;  I  must  confess  that  I  was  a 
little  bored  ;  but  suddenly  there  came  out  a  lad 
who  at  once  struck  me  as  being  rather  uncommon, 
and  he  riveted  my  attention.  The  performance,  I 
think,  was  a  scene  from  '  Ion,'  in  which  he  played 
Adrastus.  I  well  saw  that  he  left  his  schoolfellows  a 
long  way  behind.  That  schoolboy  was  Master  Henry 
Irving.  Seeing  that  he  had  dramatic  aptitude,  I  gave 
him  a  word  of  encouragement,  perhaps  the  first  he 
had  ever  received,  and  certainly  the  first  he  had 
received  from  one  in  the  dramatic  profession,  to 
which  he  is  now  a  distinguished  honour."  Sir 
Edward  Clarke,  who  was  sent  to  the  school  after 
Irving  left  it,  long  after  made  humorous  complaint 
at  a  Theatrical  Fund  dinner  that,  on  exhibiting  his 
own  powers  at  the  same  school,  he  used  to  be  regu- 
larly told,  "Very  good — very  fair;  but  you  should 
have  heard  Irving  do  it." 

On  leaving  the  school,  it  was  determined  that 
the  future  actor  should  adopt  a  commercial  career, 
and  he  was  placed  in  the  offices  of  Messrs.  Thacker, 
"  Indian  Merchants  in  Newg-ate  Street."  He  was 
then  about  fourteen,  and  remained  in  the  house  four 
years.'  Mr.  Edward  Russell,  of  the  old  Haymarket, 
was  with  him  at  Thacker's,  and  describes  his  elation 

'  87  was  the  number ;  and  Messrs.  Lyons  and  Co.,  who  now 
occupy  the  premises,  are  having  a  tablet  placed  on  the  wall  to 
commemorate  the  actor. 


EARLY  TASTE  FOR  THE  STAGE     5 

at  the  purchase  of  some  stage  properties,  also  the 
affection  of  the  worthy  old  Thacker  for  his  clerk. 
His  eyes  were  even  now  straying  from  his  desk 
to  the  stage.  He  was  constantly  reading  plays 
and  poetry,  and  seeking  opportunity  for  practice 
in  the  art  in  which  he  felt  he  was  destined  so  to 
excel,  and  even  reciting  in  the  street. 

At  this  time,  about  1853,  the  late  Mr.  Phelps' 
intelligent  efforts,  and  the  admirable  style  in  which 
he  presented  classical  dramas,  were  exciting  interest 
and  even  enthusiasm  among  young  men.  I  now 
look  back  with  pleasure  to  the  pilgrimages  to 
the  far-off  Sadler's  Wells  Theatre,  where  so  intel- 
lectual an  entertainment  was  provided  and  sustained 
with  admirable  taste  for  many  seasons.  What  was 
called  "  The  Elocution  Class "  was  one  of  the 
results.  It  was  directed  by  a  Mr.  Henry  Thomas 
with  much  intelligence  :  his  svstem  was  to  encourage 
his  pupils  to  recite  pieces  of  their  own  selection,  on 
which  the  criticisms  of  the  listeners  were  freely 
given  and  invited.  "  On  one  evening,"  says  one 
of  Irving's  old  class-fellows,  "a  youth  presented 
himself  as  a  new  member.  He  was  rather  tall  for 
his  age,  dressed  in  a  black  suit,  with  what  is  called 
a  round  jacket,  and  a  deep  white  linen  collar  turned 
over  it.  His  face  was  very  handsome,  with  a  mass 
of  black  hair,  and  eyes  bright  and  flashing  with 
intelligence.  He  was  called  on  for  his  first  recita- 
tion, and  fairly  electrified  the  audience  with  an 
unusual  display  of  elocutionary  and  dramatic  in- 
tensity." This  was  Henry  Irving.  By  and  by 
the    elocution    class    was    moved    to    the    Sussex 


6  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

Hall,  in  Leadenhall  Street,  when  something  more 
ambitious  was  attempted  in  the  shape  of  regular 
dramatic  performances.  The  pieces  were  chiefly 
farces,  such  as  '  Boots  at  the  Swan,'  or  '  Little 
Toddlekins,'  though  more  serious  plays  were  per- 
formed. It  was  remarked  that  the  young  performer 
was  invariably  perfect  in  his  "words."  In  spite 
of  his  youth  he  gave  great  effect  to  such  characters 
as  Wilford  in  '  The  Iron  Chest,'  and  others  of  a 
melodramatic  cast.  A  still  more  ambitious  effort 
was  Tobin's  '  Honeymoon,'  given  at  the  little 
Soho  Theatre,  with  full  accompaniments  of  scenery, 
dresses,  and  decoration  ;  and  here  the  young 
aspirant  won  great  applause. 

It  was  to  be  expected  that  this  success  and  these 
associations  should  more  and  more  encouragfe  him 
in  his  desire  of  adopting  a  profession  to  which  he 
felt  irresistibly  drawn.  He  was,  of  course,  a  visitor 
to  the  theatres,  and  always  recalled  the  extraordi- 
nary impression  left  upon  him  by  Phelps'  perform- 
ances. In  every  one's  experience  is  found  one  of 
these  "epoch-making"  incidents,  which  have  an 
influence  we  are  often  scarcely  conscious  of;  and 
every  thinking  person  knows  the  value  of  such 
"  turning-points  "  in  music  or  literature.  The  young 
man's  taste  was  no  caprice,  or  stage-struck  fancy ; 
he  would  try  his  powers  deliberately;  and  before 
going  to  see  a  play  would  exercise  himself  in 
regular  study  of  its  parts,  attempting  to  lay  out 
the  action,  business,  &c.,  according  to  his  ideas. 
Many  years  later,  in  America,  he  said  that  when 
he    was    a    youth    he    never    went    to    a    theatre 


EARLY  TASTE  FOR  THE  STAGE     7 

except    to  see  a   Shakespearian   play — in  fact,    for 
instruction. 

At  Sadler's  Wells  there  was  a  painstaking  actor 
called  Hoskins,  who  was  attracted  by  the  young 
fellow's  conscientious  spirit,  and  who  agreed  to  give 
him  a  few  lessons  in  his  art.  These  were  fixed  for 
eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  so  as  not  to  interfere 
with  commercial  business.  Hoskins  introduced  him 
to  Phelps,  who  listened  to  his  efforts  with  some  of 
that  gnarled  impassibility  which  was  characteristic 
of  him  ;  then  in  his  blunt,  good-natured  way,  gave 
him  this  advice  :  "  Young  man,  have  nothing  to  do 
with  the  stage  ;  it  is  a  bad  profession  !  " 

Such,  indeed,  is  the  kindest  counsel  that  could  be 
given  to  nine-tenths  of  the  postulants  of  our  time. 
Their  wish  is  to  "go  on  the  stage" — a  different 
thincr  from  becomino-  an  actor.  The  manager  had 
nothing  before  him  to  show  that  there  were  here 
present  the  necessary  gifts  of  perseverance,  study, 
and  intelligence.  Struck,  however,  by  his  earnest- 
ness, he  proposed  to  give  him  an  engagement  of  a 
very  trifiing  kind,  which  the  young  man,  after 
deliberation,  declined,  on  the  ground  that  it  would 
not  afford  him  opportunities  of  thoroughly  learning 
his  profession.  The  good-natured  Hoskins,  who 
was  himself  leaving  the  theatre  to  go  to  Australia, 
gave  him  a  letter  to  a  manager,  with  these  words  : 
•*  You  will  go  on  the  stage  ;  when  you  want  an 
engagement  present  that  letter,  and  you  will  obtain 
one."  He,  indeed,  tried  to  induce  him  to  join  him 
on  his  tours,  but  the  offer  was  declined. 

His  mother,  however,  could  not  reconcile  herself 


8  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

to  his  taking  so  serious  a  step  as  "  going  on  the 
stage."  "  I  used  frequently,"  writes  his  companion 
at  the  elocution  class,  "  to  visit  at  her  house  to 
rehearse  the  scenes  in  which  John  and  I  were 
to  act  together.  I  remember  her  as  beingr  rather 
tall,  somewhat  stately,  and  very  gentle.  On  one 
occasion  she  begged  me  very  earnestly  to  dissuade 
him  from  thinking  of  the  stage  as  a  profession  ;  and 
havinor  read  much  of  the  vicissitudes  of  actors' 
lives,  their  hardships,  and  the  precariousness  of 
their  work,  I  did  my  best  to  impress  this  view  upon 
him."  But  it  is  ever  idle  thus  striving-  to  hinder  a 
youth's  purpose  when  it  has  been  deliberately 
adopted. 

Having  come  to  this  resolution,  he  applied 
earnestly  to  the  task  of  preparing  himself  seriously 
for  his  profession.  He  learned  a  vast  number  of 
characters  ;  studied,  and  practised;  even  took  lessons 
in  fencing,  attending  twice  a  week  at  a  school-of- 
arms  in  Chancery  Lane.  This  accomplishment, 
often  thought  trifling,  was  once  an  important 
branch  of  an  actor's  education ;  it  supplies  an 
eleganceof  movement  and  bearing. 

"  The  die  being  now  cast,"  according  to  the 
accepted  expression,  John  Brodribb,  now  become 
Henry  Irving,  bade  adieu  to  his  desk,  and  bethink- 
ing him  of  the  Hoskins  letter,  applied  to  Mr. 
Davis,  a  country  manager,  who  had  just  com- 
pleted the  building  of  a  new  theatre  at  Sunderland. 
With  a  slender  stock  of  money  he  set  off  for  that 
town.  By  an  odd  coincidence  the  name  of  the  new 
house  was  the  Lyceum.     The  play  appointed  was 


FIRST   APPEARANCE  9 

*  Richelieu,'  and  the  opening  night  was  fixed  for 
September  29,  1856.  The  young  actor  was  cast 
for  the  part  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  had  to 
speak  the  opening  words  of  the  piece. 

Mr.  Alfred  Davis,  a  well-known  provincial  actor, 
and  son  of  a  northern  manager,  used  often  to  recall 
the  circumstances  attending  Irving's  "first  appear- 
ance on  any  stage."  "The  new  theatre,"  he  says, 
"was  opened  in  September,  1856,  and  on  the  29th 
of  that  month  we  started.  For  months  previously 
a  small  army  of  scenic  artists  had  been  at  work. 
Among  the  names  of  the  corps  dramatique  were 
those  of  our  old  friend,  Sam  Johnson  (now  of  the 
Lyceum)  ;  Miss  Ely  Loveday  (sister  of  H.  J. 
Loveday,  the  much  respected  stage-manager  of 
the  Lyceum) ;  and  a  youthful  novice,  just  eighteen, 
called  Henry  Irving.  Making  his  first  appearance, 
he  spoke  the  first  word  in  the  first  piece  (played  for 
the  first  time  in  the  town,  I  believe),  on  the  first  or 
opening  night  of  the  new  theatre.^  The  words  of 
the  speech  itself,  *  Heres  to  our  enterprise  ! '  had  in 
them   almost   a   prophetic   tone   of  aspiration   and 

*  Monday  Evening,  Sept.  29,  1856. 

The  Season  will  commence,  with  Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer  Lytton's 

beautiful  play, 

RICHELIEU. 
Louis  the  Thirteenth  ...         ...         Mr.  Courtenay. 

Gaston  (Duke  of  Orleans) ...  ...         Mr.  Irving.     &c. 

After  '  Richelieu '  came : 

The  highly  successful  New  Piece  of  Oriental  Sentimentality 
or  Sentimental  Orientality,  extracted  from  Dreams  of  the 
Arabian  Nights,  by  the  indefatigable  Visionary  Hoo-Zure- 
Attar,  and  which  to  be  appreciated  must  be  seen,  as   the 


10  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

success.  So  busy  was  I  in  front  and  behind 
the  scenes,  that  I  was  barely  able  to  reach  my 
place  on  the  stage  in  time  for  the  rising  of  the 
curtain.  I  kept  my  back  to  the  audience  till  my 
cue  to  speak  was  given,  all  the  while  buttoning 
up,  tying,  and  finishing  my  dressing  generally,  so 
that  scant  attention  would  be  given  to  others.  But 
even  under  these  circumstances  I  was  compelled  to 
notice,  and  with  perfect  appreciation,  the  great  and 
most  minute  care  which  had  been  bestowed  by  our 
aspirant  on  the  completion  of  his  costume.  In 
those  days  managers  provided  the  mere  dress. 
Accessories,  or  '  properties  '  as  they  were  called, 
were  found  by  every  actor.  Henry  Irving  was, 
from  his  splendid  white  hat  and  feathers  to  the 
tips  of  his  shoes,  a  perfect  picture  ;  and,  no  doubt, 
had  borrowed  his  authority  from  some  historical 
picture  of  the  Louis  XIII.  period." 

"  The  impersonation,"  as  the  neophyte  related  it 
long  afterwards,  "  was  not  a  success.  I  was  nervous, 
and  suffered  from  stage  fright.  My  second  appear- 
ance as  Cleomenes  in  '  A  Winter's  Tale,'  was  even 
more  disheartening,  as  in  Act  V.  I  entirely  forgot 
my  lines,  and  abruptly  quitted  the  scene,  putting 
out  all  the  other  actors.  My  manager,  however, 
put  down  my  failure  to  right  causes,  and  instead  of 

most    extravagantly   laudatory   ecomiums   {sic)    must   fall  im- 
measurably short  of  the  gigantic  merit  of 

THE   ENCHANTED   LAKE! 
Or  the  Fisherman  and  the  Genie. 
Near  the  end  of  the  cast  occurs  the  following  line  : 
Cooks  ...  Messrs.  Brunt,  Irving,  Waite,  Broderick,  Owen.,  &c. 


FIRST  APPEARANCE  11 

dispensing-  with  my  services,  gave  me  some  strong 
and  practical  advice." 

All  which  is  dramatic  enough,  and  gives  us  a 
glimpse  of  the  good  old  provincial  stage  life.  That 
touch  of  encouragement  instead  of  dismissal,  is 
significant  of  the  fair,  honest  system,  which  then 
obtained  in  this  useful  training  school. 

Of  this  stage  fright  he  did  not  quite  shake  him- 
self clear  for  a  long  time.  Once  acting  in  '  A 
Winter's  Tale,'  he  entered  boldly  enough,  but  all 
the  words  passed  from  his  memory.  In  despera- 
tion he  called  out,  "Come  to  the  market-place  and 
I   well  tell  you  further,"  and  so  exit. 


CHAPTER   II 

1857-1859 

EDINBURGH    AND    THE    SCOTTISH    THEATRES 

AT  the  Sunderland  Theatre  he  remained  only 
four  months,  and  though  the  manager  pressed 
him  to  stay  with  him,  the  young  actor  felt  that  here 
he  had  not  the  opportunities  he  desired.  He  accord- 
ingly accepted  an  engagement  at  the  Edinburgh 
Theatre,  which  began  on  February  9,    1857. 

Among  the  faces  that  used  to  be  familiar  at  any 
"  first  night "  at  the  Lyceum  were  those  of  Robert 
Wyndham  and  his  wife.  There  is  something 
romantic  in  the  thought  that  these  guests  of  the 
London  manao^er  and   actor  in    the   heio-ht    of  his 

o  o 

success  and  prosperity  should  have  been  the  early 
patrons  of  the  unfriended  struggling  player.  Wynd- 
ham was  one  of  the  successors  of  that  sagacious 
Murray  to  whom  the  Edinburgh  stage  owes  so 
much  that  is  respectable.  Here  our  actor  remained 
for  two  years  and  a  half,  enjoying  the  benefits  of 
that  admirable,  useful  discipline,  by  which  alone  a 

knowledge  of  acting  is  to  be  acquired — viz.,  a  varied 

12 


EDINBURGH   AND   SCOTTISH   THEATRES     13 

practice  in  a  vast  round  of  characters.  This  experi- 
ence, though  acquired  in  a  hurried  and  perfunctory 
fashion,  is  of  enormous  value  in  the  way  of  training. 
The  player  is  thus  introduced  to  every  shade  and 
form  of  character,  and  can  practise  himself  in  all  the 
methods  of  expression.  Now  that  "  stock  com- 
panies "  are  abolished,  and  have  given  place  to  the 
"travelling  ones,"  the  actor  has  few  opportunities  of 
learning  his  business,  and  the  result  is  a  "  thinness  " 
or  meagreness  of  interpretation.  In  this  Edinburgh 
school  our  actor  performed  "a  round,"  as  it  is  called, 
of  no  fewer  than  three  hundred  and  fifty  characters  ! 
This  seems  amazing.  It  is,  in  truth,  an  extra- 
ordinary list,  ranging  over  every  sort  of  minor 
character. 

He  here  also  enjoyed  opportunities  of  performing 
with  famous  "stars"  who  came  round  the  provinces, 
Miss  Helen  Faucit,  Mrs.  Stirling,  Vandenhoff, 
Charles  Dillon,  Madame  Celeste,  "  Ben  "  Webster, 
Robson,  the  facetious  Wright,  the  buoyant  Charles 
Mathews,  his  life-long  friend  Toole,  of  "  incompres- 
sible humour,"  and  the  American,  Miss  Cushman.^ 
This,  it  is  clear,  was  a  period  of  useful  drudgery, 
but    in    it    he    found    his    account.     The    company 

'  Long  after,  in  his  prosperity,  he  recalled  to  American  listeners 
an  excellent  piece  of  advice  given  him  by  this  actress.  He  was 
speaking  of  the  invaluable  practice  of  revealing  thoughts  in  the 
face  before  giving  them  utterance,  where,  he  said,  it  "will  be 
found  that  the  most  natural,  the  most  seemingly  accidental, 
effects  are  obtained  when  the  working  of  the  mind  is  seen  before 
the  tongue  gives  its  words.  This  lesson  was  enjoined  on  me 
when  I  was  a  very  young  man  by  that  remarkable  actress, 
Charlotte  Cushman." 


14  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

visited  various  Scotch  towns,  which  the  actor  has 
described  pleasantly  enough  in  what  might  seem  an 
extract  from  one  of  the  old  theatrical  memoirs.     He 
had  always  a  vein  of  quiet  humour,  the  more  agree- 
able because  it  was  unpretending  and  without  effort. 
It  would    be    difficult    to   give    an   idea    of  the 
prodigious     labour    which    this     earnest,     resolute 
young   man  underwent  while  struggling  to  "  learn 
his     profession."      The     iron     discipline     of     the 
theatre     favoured    his     efforts,    and    its    calls    on 
the     exertions     of    the     actor     seem,     nowadays, 
truly    extraordinary,    though    in    another    laborious 
profession,   the   office    of  "deviling"  for  a  counsel 
in    full    practice,    which    entails    painful    gratuitous 
drudgery,  is  welcomed  as  a  privilege  by  any  young 
man  who  wishes  to  rise.    A  few  of  these  Edinburgh 
bills  are  now  before  me,  and  present  nights  of  singu- 
larly hard   work   for  so    young  a  man.     We  may 
wonder,    too,    at   the   audience   which    could    have 
stomach  for  so  lengthy  a  programme.     Thus,  one 
night,  January  7,    1858,  when  the  pantomime  was 
running,  the  performances  began  with    the   panto- 
mime   of  *  Little  Bo-Peep,'  in  which  we   find   our 
hero  as  Scruncher,   "  the  Captain  of  the  Wolves." 
After  the  pantomime  came  '  The    Middy  Ashore,' 
in   which    he  was    Tonnish,    "an    exquisite,"   con- 
cluding with  '  The  Wandering  Boys,'  in  which  we 
again  meet  him  as  Gregoire,   "confidential  servant 
to  the  Countess  Croissey."     We    find   him   nearly 
always  in  three  pieces  of  a  night,  and  he  seems,  in 
pieces  of  a  light  sort,  to  have  been  "  cast "  for  the 
gentlemanly  captain  of  the  "  walking  "  sort ;  in  more 


NEW  R07AL  LTCEUIH  THEATRE 

Llccnaed   Partaunt  to    Aec  of  Parllantewt.  

Proprietor  &  Manager,       —        IMCaK.    EQ.    99.    XIi.ilL 

Tbe  IIr«c<l«B   being  completed,  (tie   NICW    ROTAI<    LYCKVK    THMATBB 


ron    THK    BKCBPTIOM    OF    TBB    PCBdC 

ON  MONDAY  EVENING  NEXT,   SEPT,  29th,   1856. 

Br.   DAVIS   wlahea   tlint  bl«   kinil    Prlends  and    Pairvni   kliould   IbemaelTes  Judge  of  (he  elTorta  mnde 
for   (belr   a««innnioda(ioii    r»lher   than    be   (ulded    by    any    rooameiita    freni    bin),    he    will    tbereTore 
•aly    expro*   bla    hope*    lba(   l(   will    be   apparent   to   all    how    anKioudy   he  baa   laboured   (•   redevm 
the    promla**    n^ade    aa    to   tti**    liniw   of    opeoiog. 


Architect         _         _         »         -  

Assistant  Architect  and  Baperintendent  of  Works,     -  M«^_  <arosi.  S 

The  Decorative  Department  from  the  Pencil  of  nana,-  <Jr,^k.is.  x.,3Czvm 

JExecnted  under  his  direction  by  Messrs.  SAUUOEBS  &  JOHBSOV. 


The  Masonry  by 

The  Joiner  Work  by 
The  Oas  and  other  Fittings  by  Mr.  DANNATT  and  Mr.  CLASPEB. 
The    Upholaterv    by    Messrs.    ALCOCK,    BR7D0K.    HESRING.    &o- 
The  Painting  Work  by  Mr.  ABHTSON. 


MONDAY  EVENING.  Sept.  29. 1856 

Tbe  Season  wilUcotnMence  with   Sir   K.  Lu    BCL'WKM    L.TT-rOli-s   beaatirtil   Play 

RICIELI 

Ijotus  the  Thirteenth Mr.  COUBTENAY  Gaston    (Duke  of  Orleans) Mr  IBVINQ 

The  Sieux  de  Beringhen    (aCcurtiei) Mr.  ALFRED    DAVIS 

Barada8  (Favourite  of  ihe  Kiiigi..  Mr.  0RV:KLL  The  Chevalier  de  Maaprat. Mr  J   O   COWPEB 

Richelieu,  CFirst  Time  in  Sunderland) Mr.  DAVIS 

Father  Joseph  Mr.  FOOTE  Huguet  a  Spvj  Mr.  BRUNT  FrancoisCa  Page  MissAGNKS  MARKHAM 

Pages  to  Richelieu Misses  POULSON  and  MONTAGUE 

Pages  to  the  King Misses  MILNER,    LEIGH,    CARTER 

Count  de  Clermont Mr.  GIBSON  Captain  of  Guard Mr.  WAITB 

Gaoler Mr.  BRODERTCK  Governor      Mr.  S.  JOHNSON 

First  Secretary    Mr.  MASTERS        Second  Do.    Mr.  EDOUIN        Third  Do.    Mr.  MORELLI 

Julia  de  Mortemar  (Richelieu's  Word) Mrs.  ALFRED  DAVIS 

Marion  de  Lorme Miss  DE    CLIFFORD 

To  Conoladn  w<th  Ihr  highly  successful  New  Piece  of  OricntaJ   Sent^maataUiy,  or  Santimental  OrleiiukUty,  extracted  from 

Dreamt  of  the  Arabian  Nighte,  by  the  indefaUgable  VUlonary.  HOO-ZURE-ATAR.  and  which  to  be  appreciated  moat  be  seen, 

as  the  me«i  eztraTaguntly  laudatory  ecoiniunis   most  fall   immeasorably  short   of  the   ^gantic    merit  of 

THE  ENCHANTED  LAKE! 

OR    THE    FISHERMAN     AND     THE    GENIE. 

Achmet         (Autocrat  of  Bagdad,  of  imperial  Brfendour  and  minenous  .lisposition)  Mr.   S.    JOHNSON 

Mooney  Pacha  (his  much-abused  Vizier)  Mr.  FOOTE  AbdalJah  (the  Black  Enchanter)  Mr.  MASTERS 

Hassan  (»  Fii*^'«n"an.  "ho  finds  out  that  hoDesty  is  the  Uvt  policy^  Mr.  .^  LiFRED    DAVIS 

Monkey  (w''"  'hough  at  (irst,  ■•  a  beast,'  ultimately  proves  himiwlf  '  o  grntleman  '  )         JJr.  EDOUIN 

nonius  of  tbeBottle ("*"»  has  no  ooonection  -ith  the  Bottle  Imp) Mr.  OOURTKNAT 

U^niUB  oi  Qgi^j^ Cook  of  the  Palace) Mr.    GIBSON 

AzorandAzim riVo  Youn^  Princes) Mrs.  COURTENAY  and   Miss  CARTER 

Co^s  Messrs.  BRUNT,    IRVING.    WAITE,    BRODERICK,    OWEN 

Fatima  and  Zeliea    (initrcsiioK  young  L«dies,  Daughters  of  Achmet)    Misses  OWEW  BBd  De  OLIFFORD 

Oueen  of  the  Pen Miss  MILNSR 

Peris  Misaes  T.KTGH,    POULSONS.    C.  BROCK,    B.  BROCK  and  F.  BROCK.  <to. 


['iV  face  piifje  I"). 


EDINBURGH   AND   SCOTTISH   THEATRES     15 

serious  ones,  for  the  melodramatic  and  dignified 
cliaracters.  In  'Nicholas  Nickleby'  he  was  the 
hero ;  and  Jack  Wind,  the  boatswain,  the  chief 
mutineer,  in  '  Robinson  Crusoe.'  In  the  course  of 
this  season  Toole  and  Miss  Louisa  Keeley  came 
to  the  theatre,  when  Irving  opened  the  night  as  the 
Marquis  de  Cevennes  in  '  Plot  and  Passion,'  next 
appearing  in  the  "laughable  farce"  (and  it  is  one, 
albeit  old-fashioned),  'The  Loan  of  a  Lover,'  in 
which  he  was  Amersfort,  and  finally  playing  Lee- 
ford,  "  Brownlow's  nephew,"  in  'Oliver  Twist.'  As 
Mr.  Wyndham  informed  me  :  "  During  the  short 
period  he  was  under  our  management,  both  Mrs. 
Wyndham  and  myself  took  a  most  lively  interest  in 
his  promotion,  for  he  was  always  perfect,  and  any 
character,  however  small,  he  might  have  been  called 
upon  to  represent,  was  in  itself  a  study  ;  and  I  be- 
lieve he  would  have  sacrificed  a  week's  salary — a 
small  affair,  by  the  way — to  exactly  look  like  the 
character  he  was  about  to  portray." 

The  young  man,  full  of  hope  and  resolution,  went 
cheerfully  through  these  labours,  though  "my  name," 
as  he  himself  tells  us,  "continued  to  occupy  a  use- 
ful but  obscure  position  in  the  playbill.  Nothing 
occurred  to  suggest  to  the  manager  the  propriety 
of  doubling  my  salary,  though  he  took  care  to 
assure  me  I  was  '  made  to  rise.' "  This  salary 
was  the  modest  one  of  thirty  shillings  a  week, 
then  the  usual  one  for  what  was  termed  "juvenile 
lead."  The  old  classification,  "walking  lady," 
"singing  chambermaid,"  "heavy  father,"  &c., 
will     have     soon     altogether    disappeared,     simply 


16  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

because  the  round  of  characters  that  engendered 
it  has  disappeared.  Now  the  manager  selects,  at 
his  goodwill  and  pleasure,  anybody,  in  or  out  of 
his  company,  who  he  thinks  will  best  suit  the 
character. 

Of  these  old  Edinburgh  days  Irving  thought 
fondly.  At  the  Scottish  capital  he  was  later  wel- 
comed with  an  affectionate  sympathy ;  and  the 
various  intellectual  societies  of  the  city — Philoso- 
phical and  others — were  always  glad  to  receive 
instruction  and  entertainment  from  his  lips.  In 
November,  1891,  when  he  was  visiting  the 
Students'  Union  Dramatic  Society,  he  told  them 
that  some  thirty  years  before  "he  was  member  of 
a  University  there — the  old  Theatre  Royal.  There 
he  had  studied  for  two  years  and  a  half  his  beauti- 
ful art,  and  there  he  learnt  the  lesson  that  they 
would  all  learn,  that — 

"  '  Deep  the  oak  must  sink  its  roots  in  earth  obscure, 
That  hopes  to  lift  its  branches  to  the  sky.' " 

In  some  of  his  later  speeches  "of  occasion"  he 
has  scattered  little  autobiographical  touches  that  are 
not  without  interest.  On  one  occasion  he  recalled 
how  he  was  once  summoned  over  to  Dublin  to 
supply  the  place  of  another  actor  at  the  Queen's 
Theatre,  then  under  the  direction  of  two  "manager- 
twins,"  the  Brothers  Webb.  The  Queen's  was  but 
a  small  house,  conducted  on  old-fashioned  principles, 
and  had  a  rather  turbulent  audience.  When  the 
actor  made  his  appearance  he  was,  to  his  astonish- 
ment,  greeted   with  yells,  general   anger,  and  dis- 


EDINBURGH  AND   SCOTTISH  THEATRES     17 

approbation.  This  was  to  be  his  reception 
through  nearly  the  whole  engagement,  which  was 
luckily  not  a  long  one.  He,  however,  stuck  gal- 
lantly to  his  post,  and  sustained  his  part  with 
courage.  He  described  the  manager  as  perpetually 
making-  ** alarums  and  excursions"  in  front  of  the 
curtain  to  expostulate  with  the  audience.  These 
"  Brothers  Webb,  who  had  found  their  twinship 
profitable  in  playing  the  '  Dromios,'  were  worthy 
actors  enough,  and  much  respected  in  their  pro- 
fession ;  they  had  that  marked  individuality  of 
character  now  so  rarely  found  on  the  boards.  He 
discovered,  at  last,  what  his  offence  was,  viz.,  the 
taking  the  place  of  a  dismissed  actor — an  uncon- 
scious exercise  of  a  form  of  '  land-grabbing  ' — but 
his  placid  good-humour  gradually  made  its  way, 
and  before  the  close  of  the  engagement  he  had, 
according  to  the  correct  theatrical  phrase,  '  won 
golden  opinions.'" 

At  the  close  of  the  season — in  May,  1859 — the 
Edinburgh  company  set  out  on  its  travels,  visiting 
various  Scotch  provincial  towns.  During  this 
peregrination,  when  at  Dundee,  the  idea  occurred 
to  him  and  a  brother-player  of  venturing  "a  read- 
ing "  in  the  neighbouring  town  of  Linlithgow. 
This  adventure  he  has  himself  related  in  print. 
Our  actor  had  an  agreeable  vein  of  narrative, 
marked  by  a  quiet,  rather  placid  humour,  also 
found  in  his  occasional  speeches.  The  charm  and 
secret  of  this  is  the  absence  of  affectation  or  pre- 
tence ;  a  talisman  ever  certain  to  win  listeners  and 
readers. 

3 


18  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

"  I  had  been  about  two  years  upon  the  stage,  and 
was  fulfilHng  my  first  engagement  at  Edinburgh. 
Like  all  young  men,  I  was  full  of  hope.  It  hap- 
pened to  be  vacation  time — '  preaching  week,'  as  it 
is  called  in  Scotland — and  it  struck  me  that  I  might 
turn  my  leisure  to  account  by  giving  a  reading.  I 
imparted  this  project  to  another  member  of  the 
company,  who  entered  into  it  with  enthusiasm. 
He,  too,  was  young  and  ambitious.  I  promised 
him  half  the  profits. 

"  Eight  o'clock  drew  near,  and  we  sallied  out  to 
survey  the  scene  of  operations.  The  crowd  had 
not  yet  begun  to  collect  in  front  of  the  town-hall, 
and  the  man  who  had  undertaken  to  be  there  with 
the  key  was  not  visible.  As  it  was  getting  late,  we 
went  in  search  of  the  doorkeeper.  He  was  quietly 
reposing  in  the  bosom  of  his  family,  and  to  our 
remonstrance  replied,  '  Ou,  ay,  the  reading !  I 
forgot  all  aboot  it.'     This  was  not  inspiriting. 

"The  time  wore  on.  The  town  clock  struck 
eight,  and  still  there  was  no  sign  of  'the  rush.' 
Half-past  eight,  and  not  a  soul  to  be  seen — not 
even  a  small  boy !  I  could  not  read  the  '  Lady  of 
Lyons '  to  an  audience  consisting  of  the  manager, 
with  a  face  as  long  as  two  tragedies,  so  there  was 
nothinof  for  it  but  to  beat  a  retreat.  No  one  came 
out  even  to  witness  our  discomfiture. 

"This  incident  was  vividly  revived  last  year,  as 
I  passed  through  Linlithgow  on  my  way  from 
Edinburgh  to  Glasgow,  in  which  cities  I  gave,  in 
conjunction  with  my  friend  Toole,  two  readings  on 
behalf  of  the  sufferers  by  the  bank  failure,  which 


EDINBURGH   AND   SCOTTISH   THEATRES     19 

produced  a  large  sum  of  money.  My  companion  in 
the  Linlithgow  expedition  was  Mr.  Edward  Saker 
— now  one  of  the  most  popular  managers  in  the 
provinces." 

In  March,  1859,  we  find  our  actor  at  the  old 
Surrey  Theatre,  playing  under  Mr,  Shepherd  and 
Mr.  Creswick,  for  a  "grand  week,"  so  it  was  an- 
nounced, "  of  Shakespeare,  and  first-class  pieces  ; 
supported  by  Miss  Elsworthy  and  Mr.  Creswick, 
whose  immense  success  during  the  past  week  has 
been  rapturously  endorsed  by  crowded  and  enthu- 
siastic audiences."  "  Rapturously  endorsed  "  is  good. 
In  '  Macbeth  '  we  find  Irvinsr  fitted  with  the  modest 
part  of  Siward,  and  this  only  for  the  first  three 
nights  in  the  week.  There  was  an  after-piece,  in 
which  he  had  no  part,  and  '  Money '  was  given  on 
the  other  nights. 

But  he  had  now  determined  to  quit  Edinburgh, 
lured  by  the  prospect  of  "a  London  engagement," 
an  ignis  fatuus  for  many  an  actor,  who  is  too  soon 
to  find  out  that  a  London  engagement  does  not 
mean  exactly  a  London  success.  In  1859  he  made 
his  farewell  appearance  in  'Claude  Melnotte,' and 
was  received  in  very  cordial  fashion.  As  he  told 
the  people  of  Glasgow  many  years  later,  he  ever 
thought  gratefully  of  the  Scotch,  as  they  were  the 
first  who  gave  him  encouragement. 

Now  a  London  engraa-ement  was  offered  to  him 
by  Mr.  A.  Harris,  then  managing  the  Princess's 
Theatre.  It  was  for  three  years.  But  when  he 
arrived  he  found  that  the  only  opening  given  him 
was  a  part  of  a  few  lines  in  a  play  called  '  Ivy  Hall.' 


20  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

As  this  meagre  employment  promised  neither  im- 
provement nor  fame,  he  begged  his  release.  This 
he  obtained,  and  courageously  quitted  London, 
determined  not  to  return  until  he  could  claim  a 
respectable  and  conspicuous  position.  Thus  we 
find  him,  with  perhaps  a  heavy  heart,  once  more 
returning  to  the  provinces,  just  as  Mrs.  Siddons 
had  to  return  to  the  old  drudgery  after  her  failure 
at  Drury  Lane.  Before  leaving  London,  that 
wholesome  taste  for  appealing  to  the  appreciation 
of  the  judicious  and  intellectual  portion  of  the  com- 
munity, which  had  always  been  "a  note"  of  his 
character,  prompted  him  to  give  two  readings  at 
the  old  palace  of  Crosby  Hall.  In  this  he  was 
encouraged  by  City  friends  and  old  companions, 
who  had  faith  in  his  powers.  It  was  something  to 
make  this  exhibition  under  the  roof-tree  of  that 
interesting  old  pile,  not  yet  "restored";  and  the 
locale,  we  may  imagine,  was  in  harmony  with  his 
own  refined  tastes.  He  read  the  '  Lady  of  Lyons ' 
on  December  19,  1859,  and  the  somewhat  artificial 
'  Virginius  '  on  February  i,  i860.  These  perform- 
ances were  received  with  favour,  and  were  pro- 
nounced by  the  public  critics  to  show  scholarly 
feeling  and  correct  taste. 

I  have  before  me  a  curious  little  criticism  of  this 
performance  taken  from  an  old  and  long  defunct 
journal  that  bore  the  name  of  The  Players,  which 
will  now  be  read  with  a  curious  interest : 

"We  all  know  the  'Dramatic  Reading.'  We 
have  all — at  least,  all  who  have  served  their 
apprenticeship    to   theatrical    amusements — suffered 


EDINBURGH  AND  SCOTTISH  THEATRES     21 

the  terrible  infliction  of  the  Dramatic  Reader ;  but 
then  with  equal  certainty  we  have  all  answered  to 
the  next  gentleman's  call  of  a  '  Night  with  Shake- 
speare, with  Readings,  &c.,'  and  have  again  under- 
gone the  insufferable  bore  of  hearing  our  dear  old 
poet  murdered  by  the  aspiring  genius.  Thinking 
somewhat  as  we  have  above  written  the  other  even- 
ing, we  wended  our  editorial  way  towards  Crosby 
Hall,  where  our  informant  'circular'  assured  us  Mr. 
Henry  Irving  was  about  to  read  Bulwer's  '  Lady  of 
Lyons.'  We  asked  ourselves.  Who  is  Mr.  Henry 
Irving  ?  and  memory,  rushing  to  some  hidden  cave 
in  our  mental  structure,  answered — Henry  Irving, 
oh  !  yes,  to  be  sure  ;  how  stupid !  We  at  once 
recollected  that  Mr.  Irving"  was  a  gentleman  of 
considerable  talent,  and  a  great  favourite  in  the 
provinces.  We  have  often  seen  his  name  honour- 
ably figuring  in  the  columns  of  our  provincial  con- 
temporaries. Now,  we  were  most  agreeably  dis- 
appointed on  this  present  occasion  ;  for  instead  of 
finding  the  usual  conventional  respectable-looking 
'  mediocrity,'  we  were  gratified  by  hearing  the 
poetical  '  Lady  of  Lyons  '  poetically  read  by  a  most 
accomplished  elocutionist,  who  gave  us  not  only 
words,  but  that  finer  indefinite  something  which 
proves  incontestably  and  instantaneously  that  the 
fire  of  genius  is  present  in  the  artist.  It  would  be 
out  of  place  now  to  speak  of  the  merits  of  the  piece 
selected  by  this  gentleman,  but  the  merits  appeared 
as  striking  and  the  demerits  as  little  so  as  on  any 
occasion  of  the  kind  in  our  recollection.  Claude's 
picture  of  his  imaginary  home  was  given  with  such 


22  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

poetic  feeling  as  to  elicit  a  loud  burst  of  approval 
from  his  hearers,  as  also  many  other  passages 
occurring  in  the  play.  Mr.  Irving  was  frequently 
interrupted  by  the  applause  of  his  numerous  and 
delighted  audience,  and  at  the  conclusion  was  un- 
animously called  to  receive  their  marks  of  approval." 
It  was  at  this  interesting  performance  that  Mr. 
Toole,  as  he  tells  us,  first  met  his  friend. 

A  very  monotonous  feature  in  too  many  of  the 
dramatic  memoirs  is  found  in  the  record  of  dates, 
engagements,  and  performances,  which  in  many 
instances  are  the  essence  of  the  whole.  They  are 
uninteresting  to  any  one  save  perhaps  to  the  hero 
himself  So  in  this  record  we  shall  summarise  such 
details  as  much  as  possible.  Our  actor  went  straight 
to  Glasgow,  to  Glover's  Theatre,  whence  he  passed 
to  the  Theatre  Royal,  Manchester,  where  he  re- 
mained for  some  four  years,  till  June,  1865.  Here 
he  met  fresh  histrionic  friends,  who  "came  round" 
the  circuit  in  succession — such  as  Edwin  Booth, 
Sothern,  Charles  Mathews,  G.  V.  Brooke,  Miss 
Heath,  and  that  versatile  actor  and  dramatist  and 
manager,  Dion  Boucicault.  Here  he  gradually 
gained  a  position  of  respect — respect  for  his  unfail- 
ing assiduity  and  scrupulous  conscientiousness, 
qualities  which  the  public  is  never  slow  to  note. 
In  many  points  he  offers  a  suggestion  of  Dickens, 
as  in  his  purpose  of  doing  whatever  he  attempted 
in  the  very  best  way  he  could.  There  are  other 
points,  too,  in  which  the  actor  strongly  recalled  the 
novelist ;  the  sympathetic  interest  in  all  about  him, 
the    absence    of    affectation    combined    with    oreat 


Sir  Hknry  Ikvinc, 
I-ru}it  a  pliotOj;raph  taken  in  the  early  sixties  by  Chancellor  (•'-  Son,  Dublin. 


To  face  /> .  'I'A 


EDINBURGH  AND  SCOTTISH  THEATRES     23 

talents,  the  aptitude  for  practical  business,  the 
knowledge  of  character,  the  precious  art  of  making 
friends,  and  the  being  unspoiled  by  good  fortune. 
Years  later  he  recalled  with  grateful  pleasure  the 
encourag-ement  he  had  received  here.  And  his 
language  is  touching  and  betokens  a  sympathetic 
heart  : — 

"  I  lived  here  for  five  years,  and  wherever  I  look 
— to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  to  the  north  or  the 
south — I  always  find  some  remembrance,  some 
memento  of  those  five  years.  But  there  is  one 
association  connected  with  my  life  here  that  pro- 
bably is  unknown  to  but  a  few  in  this  room.  That 
is  an  association  with  a  friend,  which  had  much  to 
do,  I  believe,  with  the  future  course  of  our  two 
lives.  When  I  tell  you  that  for  months  and  years 
we  fought  together  and  worked  together  to  the  best 
of  our  power,  and  with  the  means  we  had  then,  to 
give  effect  to  the  art  we  were  practising  ;  when  I 
tell  you  we  dreamt  of  what  might  be  done,  but  was 
not  then  done,  and  patted  each  other  on  the  back 
and  said,  '  Well,  old  fellow,  perhaps  the  day  will 
come  when  you  may  have  a  little  more  than  six- 
pence in  your  pocket ; '  when  I  tell  you  that  that 
man  was  well  known  to  you,  and  that  his  name  was 
Calvert,  you  will  understand  the  nature  of  my  asso- 
ciations with  Manchester.  I  have  no  doubt  that 
you  will  be  able  to  trace  in  my  own  career,  and  the 
success  I  have  had,  the  benefit  of  the  communion  I 
had  with  him.  When  I  was  in  Manchester  I  had 
very  many  friends.  I  needed  good  advice  at  that 
time,  for  I  found  it  a  very  difficult  thing  as  an  actor 


24  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

to  pursue  my  profession  and  to  do  justice  to  certain 
things  that  I  always  had  a  deep,  and  perhaps  rather 
an  extravagant,  idea  of,  on  the  sum  of  ;^75  a  year. 
I  have  been  making  a  calculation  within  the  last 
few  minutes  of  the  amount  of  money  that  I  did  earn 
in  those  days,  and  I  found  that  it  was  about  £j<,  a 
year.  Perhaps  one  would  be  acting  out  of  the  fifty- 
two  weeks  of  the  year  some  thirty-five.  The  other 
part  of  the  year  one  would  probably  be  receiving 
nothing.  Then  an  actor  would  be  tempted  perhaps 
to  take  a  benefit,  by  which  he  generally  lost  ^20  or 
;^30.  I  have  a  very  fond  recollection,  I  have  an 
affection  for  your  city,  for  very  many  reasons.  The 
training  I  received  here  was  a  severe  training  ;  I 
must  say  at  first  it  was  very  severe.  I  found  it  a 
difficult  thing  to  make  my  way  at  all  with  the 
audience ;  and  I  believe  the  audience  to  a  certain 
extent  was  right ;  I  think  there  was  no  reason  that 
I  should  make  my  way  with  them.  I  don't  think  I 
had  learnt  enough  ;  I  think  I  was  too  raw,  too  un- 
acceptable. But  I  am  very  proud  to  say  that  it  was 
not  long  before,  with  the  firmness  of  the  Manchester 
friendship  which  I  have  always  found,  they  got  to 
like  me." 

The  man  that  could  trace  these  faithful  records  of 
provincial  stage  life,  and  speak  in  this  natural  heart- 
felt fashion  of  memories  which  many  would  not 
perhaps  wish  to  revive,  must  have  had  a  courageous 
and  sympathetic  nature. 

Many  years  later,  in  his  prosperity,  he  came  to 
Bolton  to  lay  the  first  stone  of  a  new  theatre,  on 
which  occasion  other  old  memories  recurred  to  him. 


EDINBURGH  AND   SCOTTISH  THEATRES     25 

"  I  once  played  here,"  he  said,  "for  a  week,  I  am 
afraid  to  say  how  many  years  ago,  and  a  very  good 
time  we  had  with  a  Uttle  sharing  company  from 
Manchester,  headed  by  an  actor,  Charles  Calvert. 
The  piece  we  acted  was  called  '  Playing  with  Fire  ' ; 
and  though  we  did  not  play  with  too  much  money, 
we  enjoyed  ourselves  thoroughly.  I  always  look 
back  to  that  week  with  very  great  pleasure.  The 
theatre  then  had  not  certainly  every  modern  appli- 
ance, but  what  the  theatre  lacked  the  audience  made 
up  for,  and  a  more  spontaneous,  good-natured  public 
I  never  played  to." 

On  another  occasion  he  ag^ain  indulged  in  a  retro- 
spect ;  indeed,  his  eyes  seem  always  to  have  fondly 
turned  back  to  Manchester  and  these  early  days  of 
struggle  :  "  I  came  all  the  way  from  Greenock  with 
a  few  shillings  in  my  pocket,  and  found  myself  in 
the  splendid  theatre  now  presided  over  by  our 
friend  Captain  Bainbridge.  The  autumn  dramatic 
season  of  i860  commenced  with  a  little  farce,  and  a 
little  two-act  piece  from  the  French,  called  *  The 
Spy,'  the  whole  concluding  with  'God  Save  the 
Queen,'  in  which,  and  in  the  little  two-act  piece 
from  the  French,  I  took  prominent  parts ;  so  you 
see,  gentlemen,  that  as  a  vocalist  I  even  then  had 
some  proficiency,  although  I  had  not  achieved  the 
distinction  subsequently  attained  by  my  efforts  in 
Mephistopheles.  Besides  '  Faust  and  Marguerite,' 
there  was  a  burlesque  of  Byron's,  '  The  Maid  and 
the  Magpie,'  in  which  I  also  played,  the  part  being 
that  of  an  exceedingly  heavy  father ;  and  you  will 
forgive   me,    I   am  sure,    for  saying   that   the  very 


26  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

heavy  father  was  considered  by  some  to  be  any- 
thing but  a  dull  performance.  But  though  the 
houses  were  poor,  we  were  a  merry  family.  Our 
wants  were  few :  we  were  not  extravagant.  We 
had  a  good  deal  of  exercise,  and  what  we  did  not 
earn  we  worked  hard  to  borrow  as  frequently  as 
possible  from  one  another." 

In  his  Manchester  recollections,  as  we  see,  there 
are  hints  of  very  serious  struggles  and  privations. 
Such  are,  as  says  Boswell,  "  bark  and  steel  for  the 
mind."  A  man  is  the  better  for  them,  though  the 
process  is  painful ;  they  assuredly  teach  resource 
and  patience.  Years  after,  the  actor,  now  grown 
celebrated  and  prosperous,  used  to  relate,  and 
relate  dramatically,  this  very  touching  little  story 
of  his  strugrorles.  That  he  should  record  it  is 
evidence  of  his  frank  and  unaffected  nature.  It 
is  as  pathetic  as  it  is  characteristic  : — 

"  Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  Christmas  dinner 
at  which  I  have  ever  been  present  was  the  one  at 
which  we  dined  upon  underclothing.  Do  you 
remember  Joe  Robins — a  nice  genial  fellow  who 
played  small  parts  in  the  provinces  ?  Ah,  no  ;  that 
was  before  your  time.  Joe  Robins  was  once  in  the 
gentleman's  furnishing  business  in  London  city.  I 
think  he  had  a  wholesale  trade,  and  was  doing  well. 
However,  he  belonged  to  one  of  the  semi-Bohemian 
clubs,  associated  a  great  deal  with  actors  and  journa- 
lists, and  when  an  amateur  performance  was  orga- 
nised for  some  charitable  object,  he  was  cast  for  the 
clown  in  a  burlesque  called  '  Guy  Fawkes.'  He 
determined  to  go  upon  the  stage  professionally  and 


EDINBURGH   AND   SCOTTISH   THEATRES     27 

become  a  great  actor.  Fortunately,  Joe  was  able 
to  dispose  of  his  stock  and  goodwill  for  a  few  hun- 
dreds, which  he  invested  so  as  to  give  him  an 
income  sufficient  to  prevent  the  wolf  from  getting 
inside  his  door  in  case  he  did  not  eclipse  Garrick, 
Kean,  and  Kemble.  He  also  packed  up  for  him- 
self a  liberal  supply  of  his  wares,  and  started  in  his 
profession  with  enough  shirts,  collars,  handkerchiefs, 
stockings,  and  underclothing  to  equip  him  for 
several   years. 

"  The  amateur  success  of  poor  Joe  was  never 
repeated  on  the  regular  stage.  He  did  not  make 
an  absolute  failure  ;  no  manasfer  would  entrust  him, 
with  parts  big  enough  for  him  to  fail  in.  But  he 
drifted  down  to  general  utility,  and  then  out  of 
London,  and  when  I  met  him  he  was  engaged  in  a 
very  small  way,  on  a  very  small  salary,  at  a 
Manchester  theatre. 

"Christmas  came  in  very  bitter  weather.  Joe 
had  a  part  in  the  Christmas  pantomime.  He 
dressed  with  other  poor  actors,  and  he  saw  how 
thinly  some  of  them  were  clad  when  they  stripped 
before  him  to  put  on  their  stage  costumes.  For  one 
poor  fellow  in  especial  his  heart  ached.  In  the 
depth  of  a  very  cold  winter  he  was  shivering  in  a 
suit  of  very  light  summer  underclothing,  and  when- 
ever Joe  looked  at  him  the  warm  flannel  under- 
garments snugly  packed  away  in  an  extra  trunk 
weighed  heavily  on  his  mind.  Joe  thought  the 
matter  over,  and  determined  to  give  the  actors  who 
dressed  with  him  a  Christmas  dinner.  It  was 
literally  a  dinner   upon  underclothing,  for   most  of 


28  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

the  shirts  and  drawers  which  Joe  had  cherished  so 
long  went  to  the  pawnbroker's  or  the  slop-shop  to 
provide  the  money  for  the  meal.  The  guests 
assembled  promptly,  for  nobody  else  is  ever  so 
hungry  as  a  hungry  actor.  The  dinner  was  to  be 
served  at  Joe's  lodgings,  and  before  it  was  placed 
on  the  table  Joe  beckoned  his  friend  with  the  gauze 
underclothing  into  a  bedroom,  and  pointing  to  a 
chair,  silently  withdrew.  On  that  chair  hung  a  suit 
of  underwear  which  had  been  Joe's  pride.  It  was 
of  a  comfortable  scarlet  colour  ;  it  was  thick,  warm, 
and  heavy  ;  it  fitted  the  poor  actor  as  if  it  had  been 
manufactured  especially  to  his  measure.  He  put  it 
on,  and  as  the  flaming  flannels  encased  his  limbs  he 
felt  his  heart  glowing  within  him  with  gratitude  to 
dear  Joe  Robins. 

"  That  actor  never  knew — or,  if  he  knew,  could 
never  remember — what  he  had  for  dinner  on  that 
Christmas  afternoon.  He  revelled  in  the  luxury  of 
warm  garments.  The  roast  beef  was  nothing  to 
him  in  comparison  with  the  comfort  of  his  under- 
vest ;  he  appreciated  the  drawers  more  than  the 
plum  pudding.  Proud,  happy,  warm,  and  comfort- 
able, he  felt  little  inclination  to  eat  ;  but  sat  quietly, 
and  thanked  Providence  and  Joe  Robins  with  all 
his  heart.  '  You  seem  to  enter  into  that  poor 
actor's  feelings  very  sympathetically.'  '  I  have 
good  reason  to  do  so,'  replied  Irving,  with  his  sun- 
shiny smile,  'for  I  was  that  poor  actor  !  '  " 

This  really  simple,  most  affecting,  incident,  he 
himself  used  to  relate  when  on  his  first  visit  to 
America. 


EDINBURGH  AND  SCOTTISH  THEATRES    29 

Most  actors  have  a  partiality  for  what  may  be 
called  fantastic  freaks  or  "practical  jokes";  to  be 
accounted  for  perhaps  by  a  sort  of  reaction  from 
their  own  rather  monotonous  callinof.  Sothern 
delighted  in  such  pastimes,  and  Mr.  Toole  was 
not  exactly  indifferent  to  them.  The  excitement 
caused  by  that  ingenious  pair  of  mountebanks, 
the  Davenport  Brothers,  will  still  be  recalled : 
their  appearance  at  Manchester  early  in  1865 
prompted  our  actor  to  a  lively  method  of 
exposure,  which  he  carried  out  with  much  origi- 
nality. With  the  aid  of  another  actor,  Mr.  Philip 
Day,  and  a  prestidigitator,  Mr.  Frederic  Maccabe, 
he  arranged  his  scheme,  and  invited  a  large  number 
of  friends  and  notables  of  the  city  to  a  performance 
in  the  Athenaeum.  Assuming  the  dress  charac- 
teristics of  a  patron  of  the  Brothers,  one  Dr.  Fergu- 
son, Irving  came  forward  and  delivered  a  grotesque 
address,  and  then,  in  the  usual  familiar  style,  pro- 
ceeded to  "tie  up"  his  coadjutors  in  the  cabinet, 
with  the  accompaniments  of  ringing  bells,  beating 
tambourines,  &c.  The  whole  was,  as  a  matter  of 
course,  successful.  It  was  not,  however,  strictly 
within  the  programme  of  an  actor  who  was  "  toiling 
at  his  oar,"  though  the  vivacity  of  youth  was  likely 
enough  to  have  prompted  it. 

On  the  eve  of  his  departure  from  Manchester  he 
determined  on  an  exceedingly  ambitious  attempt, 
and  played  '  Hamlet '  for  his  own  benefit.  The 
company  good-naturedly  favoured  his  project, 
though  they  fancied  it  was  beyond  his  strength.  It 
was,   as  he  used  to  tell,  an  extraordinary  success, 


30  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

and  the  performance  was  called  for  on  several 
nights — a  high  compliment,  as  it  was  considered,  in 
the  city,  where  the  custom  was  to  require  a  "  new 
bill  "  every  night.  He  himself  did  not  put  much 
faith  in  the  prophecies  of  future  eminence  that  were 
uttered  on  this  occasion  ;  he  felt  that,  after  all,  there 
was  little  likelihood  of  his  emerofino-  from  the  de- 
pressing  monotonous  round  of  provincial  histrionics. 
But  rescue  was  nearer  at  hand  than  he  fancied. 
The  stage  is  stored  with  surprises,  and  there,  at 
least,  it  is  the  unexpected  that  always,  or  usually, 
happens. 

Leaving  Manchester,  he  passed  to  Edinburgh, 
Bury,  Oxford,  and  even  to  Douglas,  Isle  of  Man, 
where  the  assembly-room  used  to  do  duty  as  a 
"fit-up"  theatre.  For  six  months,  from  January  to 
July,  1866,  he  was  at  Liverpool  with  Mr.  Alexander 
Henderson. 

Thus  had  he  seen  many  men  and  many  theatres 
and  many  audiences,  and  must  have  learned  many 
a  rude  lesson,  besides  learning  his  profession.  At 
this  moment,  as  he  described  it  long  after,  he  found 
himself  one  day  standing  on  the  steps  of  the 
theatre  looking  hopelessly  down  the  street,  and 
in  a  sort  of  despair,  without  an  engagement,  and 
no  very  likely  prospect  of  engagement,  not  knowing, 
indeed,  which  way  to  turn,  unless  some  "  stroke 
of  luck  "  came.  But  the  "  actor's  luck,"  as  he  said, 
"  is  really  work;''  and  the  lucky  actor  is,  above  all, 
a  worker.  At  this  hopeless  moment  arrived  unex- 
pectedly a  proposal  from  Dion  Boucicault  that  he 
should  join  him  at  Manchester  and  take  a  leading 


EDINBURGH   AND  SCOTTISH   THEATRES     31 

character  in  his  new  piece.  He  accepted  ;  but  with 
some  shrewdness  stipulated  that  should  he  succeed 
to  the  author's  satisfaction,  he  was  to  obtain  an 
engagement  in  London.  This  was  acceded  to,  and 
with  a  light  heart  he  set  off. 

Mr.  Boucicault,  indeed,  long  after  in  America 
boasted  that  it  was  his  good  fortune  to  "discover 
Irving"  in  1866,  when  he  was  playing  in  "the 
country."  The  first  performance  took  place  on 
July  30,  1866.  "  He  was  cast  for  a  part  in 
•  Hunted  Down,'  and  played  it  so  admirably  that  I 
invited  my  friend  Mr.  Charles  Reade  to  go  and  see 
him.  He  confirmed  my  opinion  so  strongly,  that 
when  '  Hunted  Down '  was  played  in  London  a  few 
months  afterwards,  I  gave  it  conditionally  on  Mr. 
Irving's  engagement.  That  was  his  debut  in 
London  as  a  leading  actor."  He  added  some 
judicious  criticism,  distinguishing  Irving  as  "an 
eccentric  serious  actor "  from  Jefferson,  who  was 
"an  eccentric  comic  actor."  "  His  mannerisms  are 
so  very  marked  that  an  audience  requires  a  long 
familiarity  with  his  style  before  it  can  appreciate 
many  merits  that  are  undeniable.  It  is  unquestion- 
able that  he  is  the  greatest  actor  as  a  tragedian  that 
London  has  seen  during  the  last  fifty  years."  ^ 

'  It  is  not  surprising  that  many  more  should  have  been  found 
to  claim  the  credit  of  "discovering"  Henry  Irving.  Mr.  W. 
Reeve  writes  :  "  A  long  talk  again  with  Miss  Herbert.  As  I 
have  two  theatres  on  my  hands  and  a  company,  decided  not  to 
go.  She  seemed  very  disappointed  ;  asked  me  what  she  should 
do.  Thought  of  Henry  Irving,  who  followed  me  in  Manchester; 
advised  her  to  write  to  Mr.  Chambers  ;  promised  to  do  so,  as 
well,    if  engaged,    for  Mr.  Knowles  to  release  him.     Wrote  to 


32  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

In  this  piece,  *  Mary  Leigh  and  her  Three  Lives' 
(which  later  became  'Hunted  Down'),  the  heroine 
was  performed  by  Miss  Kate  Terry,  at  that  time 
the  only  member  of  a  gifted  family  who  had  made 
a  reputation.  Irving's  character  was  Rawdon 
Scudamore,  a  polished  villain,  to  which  he  imparted 
such  force  and  finesse,  that  it  impressed  all  who 
witnessed  it  with  the  belief  that  here  was  an  actor 
of  striking  power.  It  at  once  gave  him  "  a  position," 
and  an  impression  of  his  gifts  was  of  a  sudden  left 
upon  the  profession,  upon  those  even  who  had  not 
seen  him.  No  fewer  than  three  offers  of  engage- 
ment were  made  to  him.  The  author  of  the  piece, 
as  we  have  seen,  was  particularly  struck  with  his 
powers ;  his  London  engagement  was  now  secure, 
and  he  was  to  receive  a  tempting  offer,  through 
Mr.  Tom  Taylor,  from  the  management  of  the 
St.  James's  Theatre,  about  to  open  with  the  new 
season. 

Chambers  about  Irving."  All  which,  as  I  know  from  the  best 
authority,  is  somewhat  imaginative.  The  engagement  was 
entirely  owing  to  Boucicault. 


I 


Ikving  and  ANiiTHi;ri. 
/■  tout  an  early  photw^rapli. 


To  face  p   :;:<. 


CHAPTER    III 

1866 
THE  ST.  James's   theatre — '  hunted    down  ' — the 

NEW    vaudeville    THEATRE 'THE    TWO    ROSES  ' 

THE  directress  of  the  new  venture  at  the  St. 
James's  Theatre  was  Miss  Herbert,  a  grace- 
ful, sympathetic  person  of  much  beauty,  with 
exquisite  golden  hair  and  almost  devotional  features, 
which  supplied  many  of  the  Pre-Raphaelite  brethren 
with  angelic  faces  for  their  canvases.  On  the  stage 
her  efforts  were  directed  by  great  sympathy  and 
spirit,  and  she  was  now  about  to  essay  the  diffi- 
culties and  perplexities  of  management.  Like  so 
many  others,  she  had  before  her  a  very  high  ideal 
of  her  office  :  the  good,  vivacious  old  comedies, 
with  refined,  correct  acting,  were  to  entice  the  way- 
ward public  ;  with  pieces  by  Reade,  Tom  Taylor, 
and  Boucicault.  This  pleasing  actress  was  destined 
to  have  a  chequered  course  of  struggle  and  adven- 
ture, a  mingled  yarn  of  success  and  disappointment, 
and  has  long  since  retired  from  the  stage. 

At  the   St.   James's    Theatre  the  company  was 
formed  of  the  manageress  herself ;  of  Walter  Lacy, 

4  33 


34  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

an  actor  of  fine  polish  and  grace  ;  of  Addison,  one 
of  the  old  school  ;  with  that  excellent  mirth-making 
pair,  the  Frank  Mathews'.  The  stage-manager  was 
Irving.  Here,  then,  he  found  himself,  to  his  inex- 
pressible satisfaction,  in  a  respected  and  respectable 
position,  one  very  different  from  that  of  the  actor- 
of-all-work  in  the  provinces.  Not  the  least  com- 
forting reflection  was  that  he  had  won  his  way  to 
this  station  by  remarkable  talent  and  conscientious 
labour.  The  theatre  opened  on  October  6,  1866. 
'  Hunted  Down '  was  the  piece  originally  fixed 
upon,  but  it  could  not  be  got  ready  in  time,  so  a 
change  was  made  to  the  lively  old  comedy  of  the 
'  Belle's  Stratagem,'  the  name  which  it  had  been 
originally  proposed  to  give  to  Oliver  Goldsmith's 
'  She  Stoops  to  Conquer.' 

The  actor  tells  us  of  this  interesting  occasion  : 
"  I  was  cast  for  Doricourt,  a  part  which  I  had  never 
played  before,  and  which  I  thought  did  not  suit 
me  ;  I  felt  that  this  was  the  opinion  of  the  audience 
soon  after  the  play  began.  The  house  appeared  to 
be  indifferent,  and  I  believed  that  failure  was  con- 
clusively stamped  upon  my  work,  when  suddenly, 
upon  my  exit  after  the  mad  scene,  I  was  startled  by 
a  burst  of  applause,  and  so  great  was  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  audience,  that  I  was  compelled  to  reappear 
upon  the  scene,  a  somewhat  unusual  thing  except 
upon  the  operatic  stage."'      This  compliment  was 

*  Related  in  one  of  his  conversations  with  Mr.  Joseph  Hatton. 
I  have  heard  Walter  Lacy  describe  the  modest,  grateful  fashion 
in  which  our  actor  received  some  hints  given  him  at  rehearsal  by 
this  old  and  experienced  performer  as  to  the  playing  of  his  part. 


THE  ST.   JAMES'S  THEATRE  35 

nearly  always  paid  to  our  actor  when  he  performed 
this  part. 

In  the  criticisms  of  the  piece  the  efforts  of  the 
interesting  manageress-actress,  of  course,  received 
the  chief  attention.  Dramatic  criticism,  however, 
at  this  time  was  of  a  somewhat  slender  kind,  and 
the  elaborate  study  of  an  individual  performer's 
merits  was  not  then  in  fashion.  The  play  itself 
was  then  "the  thing,"  and  accordingly  we  find  the 
new  actor's  exertions  dealt  with  in  a  curt  but  en- 
couraging style:  "Mr.  H.  Irving  was  the  fine 
gentleman  in  Doricourt  :  but  he  was  more,  for  his 
mad  scenes  were  truthfully  conceived  and  most 
subtly  executed."  Thus  the  AthenmMin.  And  Mr. 
Oxenford,  with  his  usual  reserve,  after  pronouncing 
that  the  comedy  was  "a  compound  of  English 
dulness  and  Italian  pantomime,"  added  that  Dori- 
court "  was  heavy  company  till  he  feigns  madness, 
and  the  mock  insanity  represented  by  Mr.  H.  Irving 
is  the  cause  of  considerable  mirth."  This  slight 
and  meagre  tribute  contrasts  oddly  with  the  elaborate 
fulness  of  stage  criticism  in  our  day. 

It  was  at  one  of  the  Irving  suppers,  and  most  amusing  was  it  to 
find  the  veteran  struggling  to  claim  his  share  in  the  success.  "  I 
noticed  the  poor  young  fellow — he  was  all  astray — '  Pardon  me, 
Mr.  Irving,'  I  said,  '  if  you  will  allow  me  to  show  you.  Here, 
bring  down  a  sofa  to  the  front.'  "  But  none  of  the  old  school 
could  sincerely  have  approved  of  Irving's  methods.  I  even  once 
heard  the  good  old  Howe,  who  was  ever  loud  in  praise  of  his 
generosity — "  He  was  a  Prince " — give  him  this  unconscious 
stroke.  I  was  speaking  of  the  excessive  decoration  in  the 
Shakespeare  plays,  "  My  dear  sir,  if  you  take  all  that  away, 
what  have  we  left  ?  " 


36  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

The  piece  continued  in  the  actor's  repertoire, 
after  being  compressed  into  a  few  scenes.  The 
rich,  old-fashioned  dress  and  powder  suited  the  per- 
former and  set  off  his  intelligent  features,  which 
wore  a  smiling  expression,  as  though  consciously- 
enjoying  the  comedy  flavour  of  the  piece. 

A  little  later,  on  November  5th,  '  Hunted  Down ' 
was  brought  forward,  in  which  the  actor,  as  Rawdon 
Scudamore,  made  a  deep  impression.  It  was  de- 
clared that  the  part  "  completely  served  the  purpose 
of  displaying  the  talent  of  Mr.  Henry  Irving,  whose 
ability  in  depicting  the  most  vindictive  feelings, 
merely  by  dint  of  facial  expression,  is  very  remark- 
able." Facial  expression  is,  unhappily,  but  little 
used  on  our  English  stage,  and  yet  it  is  one  of  the 
most  potent  agencies — more  so  than  speech  or 
gesture.^  It  was  admitted,  too,  that  he  displayed 
another  precious  gift — reserve — conveying  even 
more  than  he  expressed  :  a  store  of  secret  villainy 
as  yet  unrevealed.  Among  the  spectators  were 
George  Henry  Lewes  and  George  Eliot,  when  the 
former  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  '*  In  twenty  years 
he  will  be  at  the  head  of  the  English  stage !  "  on 
which  his  companion,  "  He  is  there  already."  I 
myself  heard  Dickens  speak  with  enthusiasm  of  the 
same  performance,  saying  it  was  most  remarkable. 
I  heard,  too,  that  he  was  much  delighted  with  the 
actor's   Mr.  Chenevix  in  '  Uncle    Dick's    Darling,' 

'  I  may  be  allowed  to  refer  those  who  would  learn  the  impor- 
tance of  this  agent  of  "  facial  expression  "  to  a  little  treatise  of  my 
own,  *'  The  Art  of  Acting  " — a  lecture  at  the  Royal  Institution, 
where  it  is  fully  discussed. 


'HUNTED  DOWN'  37 

which  was  a  suggestion  of  his  own  Mr.  Dombey. 
It  was  not  noted  at  the  time  that  Digby  Grant  in 
the  '  Two  Roses '  with  some  of  the  plot  was  boldly 
transferred  from  the  same  story.  Mr.  Disraeli  was 
said  to  have  once  humorously  remarked,  "  I  think 
he  might  be  mistaken  for  7ne  I "  Many  were 
the  compliments  paid  him  on  this  creation  ;  and 
friends  of  Charles  Dickens  know  how  much  struck 
he  was  with  the  new  actor's  impersonation.  The 
novelist  was  always  eager  to  recognise  new  talent 
of  this  kind.  Some  years  later,  "Charles  Dickens 
the  younger,"  as  he  was  then  called,  related  at  a 
banquet  how  his  celebrated  father  had  once  gone 
to  see  the  '  Lancashire  Lass,'  and  on  his  return 
home  had  said  :  "  But  there  was  a  young  fellow  in 
the  play  who  sits  at  the  table  and  is  bullied  by  Sam 
Emery ;  his  name  is  Henry  Irving,  and  if  that 
young  man  does  not  one  day  come  out  as  a  great 
actor,  I  know  nothing  of  art."  A  worthy  descendant 
of  the  Kembles,  Mrs.  Sartoris,  also  heartily  appre- 
ciated his  powers.  ^     During  the  season  a  round  of 

'  Of  this  night,  my  friend  Mr.  Arthur  A'Beckett  has  recently 
recalled  some  memories :  "  All  the  dramatic  critics  were 
assembled.  John  Oxenford — kindest  of  men  and  ripest  of 
scholars — for  the  Times,  E.  L.  Blanchard  for  the  Dat'/y  Telegraph, 
John  HoUingshead  (still  amongst  us),  the  predecessor  of  my  good 
friend  Moy  Thomas  of  the  Daily  News,  Leicester  Buckingham 
for  the  Morning  Star,  Desmond  Ryan  (I  think)  for  the  Standard, 
Heraud  for  the  Illustrated  London  News,  Tomlins  or  Richard 
Lee  for  the  Advertiser,  and  Joseph  Knight  (again  one  of  our 
veterans)  for  the  Sunday  Times.  We  were  assembled  to  see  a 
new  piece  by  Dion  Boucicault,  then  one  of  the  most  prolific  of 
dramatists.  Well,  we  were  waiting  for  the  curtain  to  draw  up  on 
the  first  act  of  the  new  play.     It  was  called  '  Hunted  Down,'  and 


ji'-;'';''G30 


38  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

pieces  were  brought  forward,  such  as  '  The  Road 
to  Ruin,'  '  The  School  for  Scandal '  (in  which  he 
played  young  Dornton  and  Joseph  Surface), 
'  Robert  Macaire,'  and  a  new  Robertson  drama, 
'  A  Rapid  Thaw,'  in  which  he  took  the  part  of  a  con- 
ventional Irishman,  O'Hoolagan!  It  must  have 
been  a  quaint  surprise  to  see  our  actor  in  a 
Hibernian  character.  After  the  season  closed,  the 
company  went  "  on  tour  "  to  Liverpool,  Dublin,  and 
other  towns.  I 

Miss  Herbert's  venture,  like  so  many  other 
ventures  planned  on  intellectual  basis,  did  not 
flourish  exceedingly  ;  and  in  the  course  of  the 
years  that  followed  we  find  our  actor  appearing 
rather  fitfully  at    various    London    theatres,   which 

it  was  buzzed  in  the  stalls  that  Dion  had  picked  up  a  very  clever 
young  actor  in  the  provinces,  who,  after  a  short  career  in  town, 
had  made  his  mark  in  Manchester.  He  was  called  Henry 
Irving." 

^  At  this  time  I  happened  to  be  living  in  Dublin,  and  recall 
with  pleasure  the  comedian's  striking  face  and  figure,  and  the 
entertainment  that  he  imparted.  Once  buying  a  newspaper  in  a 
shop  that  was  close  by  the  fine  old  Theatre  Royal,  since  destroyed 
by  fire,  a  "  characteristical "  pair  entered,  whom  I  recognised 
from  having  seen  them  on  the  stage.  I  was  particularly  struck 
with  the  pale,  well-marked  features,  the  black  flowing  hair,  the 
dress  of  correct  black,  the  whole  very  much  suggesting  Nicholas 
Nickleby,  or  some  other  of  Dickens'  "walking  gentlemen." 
There  was  something  strangely  attractive  about  him,  with  a 
courteous,  kindly  tone  to  the  owner  of  the  shop  as  he  made  his 
purchase.  When  the  pair  had  departed  the  lady's  tongue  "  grew 
wanton  in  his  praise."  "  Oh,  but  Mr.  Irving,"  she  said  enthu- 
siastically, "he  is  the  one ;  a  perfect  gentleman  !  Every  morning 
he  comes  in  to  buy  his  newspaper,  and  he  do  speak  so  nicely.  I 
do  think  he  is  a  charming  young  man,"  &c. 


THE   QUEEN'S   THEATRE  39 

at  this  time,  before  the  great  revival  of  the  stage, 
were  in  rather  an  unsettled  state.  He  went  with 
Sothern  to  play  in  Paris,  appearing  at  the  Theatre 
des  Italiens,  and  in  December,  1867,  found  an 
ensfaorement  at  the  Queen's  Theatre  in  Lon^  Acre, 
a  sort  of  "converted  "  concert-room,  where  nothing 
seemed  to  thrive. 

Mr.  Labouchere,  who  has  really  supplied  one  of 
the  best  accounts  of  Irvino;,  describes  the  Queen's 
Theatre  in  his  own  pleasant,  satirical  way.  "  In 
the  sixties  I  was  the  owner  of  a  London  theatre  ; 
sometimes  I  let  it,  and  sometimes  I  produced  plays 
there.  Irving  was  my  stage  manager,  and  all  the 
time  he  was  with  me,  an  exceptionally  good 
one."  Here  for  the  first  time  he  played  with  Miss 
Ellen  Terry,  in  '  Catherine  and  Petruchio  '  (a  piece 
it  might  be  well  worth  while  to  revive  occasion- 
ally); and  in  that  very  effective  drama,  'Dearer 
than  Life,'  with  Brough  and  Toole  ;  in  '  The  School 
for  Scandal ' ;  also  making  a  striking  effect  in  *  Bill 
Sikes.'  I  fancy  this  character,  though  somewhat 
discounted  by  his  Dubosc,  would  have  added  to 
his  reputation.  We  find  him  performing  the 
lugubrious  Falkland  in  'The  Rivals.'  He  also 
played  Redburn  in  the  highly  popular  '  Lancashire 
Lass,'  which  "ran"  for  many  months.  At  the 
Queen's  Theatre  he  remained  for  over  a  year, 
not  making  any  marked  advance  in  his  profession, 
owing  to  the  lack  of  favourable  opportunities.  He 
had  a  part  in  Watts  Phillips'  drama  of  '  Not  Guilty.' 

It  was  in  1869,  when  he  was  playing  at  the 
Queen's  Theatre  in  Long  Acre,  that  he  was  married 


40  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

to  Florence,  the  daughter  of  an  Army  surgeon, 
Surgeon-General  Daniel  James  O'Callaghan  of  the 
Indian  Army.  This  importantly-sounding  officer 
is  not  likely  to  have  approved  the  alliance  with 
a  "play-actor,"  neither  could  the  actor's  friends 
have  thought  it  a  prudent  step  in  his  struggling 
condition.  Indeed,  it  does  not  seem  to  have  been 
a  very  successful  alliance,  as  a  separation,  on  the 
ground,  I  believe,  of  unsuitability  of  disposition, 
took  place  a  little  later.  They  only  met  again, 
I  believe,  in  Westminster  Abbey,  when  Lady 
Irvinof  walked  behind  the  bier.  Two  clever  sons 
were  born  ;  the  eldest,  with  much  of  the  father's 
originality  and  fervent  style,  is  more  than  likely 
to  take  a  high  place  in  his  profession  ;  the  other, 
Laurence,  full  of  an  impetuous  energy  and  ardour — 
witness  his  violent  denunciatory  speech  in  Robes- 
pierre's impeachment.  The  eldest  is  married  to 
the  fair  '  Trilby ' — Dorothea  Baird  ;  the  other  to 
a  clever  actress.  Miss  Mabel  Hackney,  who  had 
been  his  father's  "leading  lady"  in  his  latter  days. 
In  1869  he  came  to  the  Haymarket,  and  had 
an  engagement  at  Drury  Lane  in  Boucicault's 
*  Formosa,'  a  piece  that  gave  rise  to  much  excited 
discussion  on  the  ground  of  the  "  moralities."  His 
part  was,  however,  colourless,  being  little  more 
than  a  cardboard  figure  :  anything  fuller  or  rounder 
would  have  been  lost  on  so  huge  a  stage.  It 
was  performed,  or  "ran,"  for  over  a  hundred 
nights.  With  his  sensitive,  impressionable  nature 
the  performance  of  so  barren  a  character  must  have 
been  positive  pain  :  his  dramatic  soul  lay  blank  and 


'UNCLE    DICK'S   DARLING'  41 

fallow  during  the  whole  of  that  unhappy  time. 
Not  very  much  ground  had  been  gained  beyond 
the  reputation  of  a  sound  and  useful  performer. 
Relying  on  my  own  personal  impressions — for  I 
followed  him  from  the  beginning  of  his  course — 
I  should  say  that  the  first  distinct  effort  that  left 
prominent  and  distinct  impression  was  his  per- 
formance at  the  Gaiety  Theatre,  in  December, 
1869,  of  the  cold,  pompous  Mr.  Chenevix,  in 
Byron's  '  Uncle  Dick's  Darling.'  It  was  felt  at 
once,  as  I  then  felt,  that  here  was  a  rich  original 
creation,  a  figure  that  lingered  in  the  memory,  and 
which  you  followed,  as  it  moved,  with  interest  and 
pleasure.  There  was  a  surprising  finish  and  reserve. 
It  was  agreed  that  we  had  now  an  actor  oi  genre, 
who  had  the  power  of  creating  a  character.  The 
impression  made  was  really  remarkable,  and  this 
specimen  of  good,  pure  comedy  was  set  off  by 
the  pathetic  acting  of  "  friend  Toole,"  who  played 
Uncle  Dick.  This  was  a  turning-point  in  his 
career,  and  no  doubt  led  to  an  important  advance. 
But  these  days  of  uncertainty  were  now  to  close. 
I  can  recall  my  own  experience  of  the  curious 
pleasure  and  satisfaction  left  by  the  performance 
of  this  unfamiliar  actor,  who  suggested  so  much 
more  than  the  rather  meagre  character  itself  con- 
veyed. I  found  myself  drawn  to  see  it  several 
times,  and  still  the  feeling  was  always  that  of 
some  secret  undeveloped  power  in  the  clever, 
yet  unpretending,    performer.^ 

'  Irving  could  tell  a  story  in  the  pleasantest  "high  comedy" 
manner,  and  without  laying  emphasis  on  points.    In  being  enter- 


42  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

About  this  time  an  attractive  actor,  who  had 
been  much  followed  on  account  of  his  good  looks, 
one  Harry  Montague,  had  joined  in  management 
with  two  diverting  drolls — as  they  were  then — 
James  and  Thorne,  the  pillars  of  burlesque  at  the 
Strand  Theatre.  All  three  felt  a  sort  of  inspiration 
that  they  were  capable  of  something  higher  and 
more  "legitimate" — an  impression  which  the  event 
has  more  than  justified.  The  two  last,  by  assiduous 
study  and  better  opportunities,  became  admirable 
comedians.  A  sort  of  club  that  had  not  prospered 
was  lying  unused  in  the  Strand,  and  a  little  altera- 
tion converted  it  into  a  theat  -e.  The  three  managers 
were  anxiously  looking  for  a  piece  of  modern 
manners  which  would  exhibit  to  advantage  their 
several  gifts.  A  young  fellow  named  Albery,  who 
had  left  his  desk  for  playwriting,  had  brought  them 

tained  by  the  "  Savages,"  he  related  this  adventure  of  his  early 
Bohemian  days,  in  illustration  of  the  truth  that  "it  is  always 
well  to  have  a  personal  acquaintance  with  a  presiding  magistrate." 
"  I  had  driven  one  night  from  the  Albion  to  some  rooms  I  occupied 
in  Old  Quebec  Street,  and  after  bidding  the  cabman  farewell,  I 
was  preparing  to  seek  repose,  when  there  came  a  knock  at  the 
door.  Upon  opening  it  I  found  the  cabman,  who  said  that  I 
had  given  him  a  bad  half-crown.  Restraining  myself,  I  told 
him  'to  be — to  begone.'  I  shut  the  door,  but  in  a  few 
moments  there  came  another  knock,  and  with  the  cabman 
appeared  a  policeman,  who  said,  with  the  grave  formality  of 
his  office,  '  You  are  charged  with  passing  a  bad  half-crown,  and 
must  come  with  me  to  the  police-station.'  I  explained  that  I 
was  a  respectable,  if  unknown,  citizen,  pursuing  a  noble,  though 
precarious,  calling,  and  that  I  could  be  found  in  the  morning  at 
the  address  I  had  given.  The  policeman  was  not  at  all  impressed 
by  that,  so  I  jumped  into  the  cab  and  went  to  the  station,  where 
the  charge  was  entered  upon  the  night-sheet,  and  I  was  briefly 


♦THE   TWO   ROSES'  43 

a  sort  of  comedy  which  was  in  a  very  crude  state, 
but  which,  it  seemed  Hkely,  could  be  made  what 
they  wanted  ;  and  by  the  aid  of  their  experience 
and  suggestions,  it  was  fashioned  into  shape. 
Indeed,  it  proved  that  never  was  a  piece  more 
admirably  suited  to  the  company  that  played  it. 
The  characters  fitted  them  all,  as  it  is  called, 
"  like  gloves."  They  were  bright,  interesting, 
natural,  and  humorous  ;  the  story  was  pleasing 
and  interesting,  and  the  dialogue  agreeable  and 
smart.  Such  was  '  The  Two  Roses,'  which  still 
holds  the  stage,  though  it  now  seems  a  little  old- 
fashioned.  Irving  was  one  of  the  performers,  and 
was  perhaps  the  best  suited  of  the  group.  The 
perfect  success  of  the  piece  proved  how  advantageous 
is  the  old  system  of  having  a  piece  "  written  in  the 
theatre,"  when  the  intelligence  of  the  performers 
and   that  of  the    managers  are   broug-ht   in  aid  of 

requested  to  make  myself  at  home.  '  Do  you  intend  me  to 
spend  the  night  here?'  I  said  to  the  inspector.  'Certainly,'  he 
said ;  '  that  is  the  idea.'  So  I  asked  him  to  oblige  me  with  a 
pencil  and  a  piece  of  paper,  which  he  reluctantly  gave  me.  I 
addressed  a  few  words  to  Sir  Thomas  Henry,  who  was  then 
presiding  magistrate  at  Bow  Street,  and  with  whom  I  had  an 
intimacy,  in  an  unofficial  capacity.  The  inspector  looked  at  me. 
'Do  you  know  Sir  Thomas  Henry?'  he  said.  'Yes,'  I  said,  'I 
have  that  honour.'  The  officer  suddenly  turned  round  to  the 
policeman  and  said,  '  What  do  you  mean  by  bringing  such  a 
charge  against  this  gentleman  ? '  Then  he  turned  fiercely  on  the 
cabman,  and  nearly  kicked  him  out  of  the  office.  I  returned 
home  triumphantly  in  the  cab.  I  cannot  give  a  young  '  Savage  ' 
first  starting  on  his  career  a  sounder  piece  of  advice  than  this — 
'  Always  know  your  own  mind,  and  also  a  magistrate.'  "  Practised 
litterateurs  might  well  envy  the  pleasant  facility  and  point  with 
which  this  was  told. 


44  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

each  other.  The  little  house  opened  on  April  i6, 
1870,  with  a  piece  of  Mr.  Halliday's  ;  and  it  was 
not  until  a  few  weeks  later  that  the  comedy  was 
brought  forward — on  June  4th.  The  success  was 
instantaneous. 

The  unctuous  Honey,  in  his  own  line  an  excellent 
original  actor,  raised  in  the  good  old  school  of  the 
"low  comedian,"  which  has  now  disappeared,  was 
the  good-natured  Bagman — a  part  taken  later  by 
James,  who  was  also  excellent.  Thorne  was  efficient, 
and  sufficiently  reserved,  in  the  rather  unmeaning 
blind  Caleb  Decie  ;  while  Montague  was  the  gallant 
and  interesting  hero.  Jack  Wyatt.  The  two  girls 
were  represented  in  pleasing  fashion  by  Miss  Amy 
Fawcitt  and  Miss  Newton.  The  piece,  as  I  have 
said,  owed  much  to  the  actors,  though  these  again 
owed  much  to  the  piece.  It  is  difficult  to  adjust 
the  balance  of  obligation  in  such  cases  ;  but  good 
actors  can  make  nothing  of  a  bad  play,  whereas 
a  good  play  may  make  good  actors.  Irving,  as 
Digby  Grant,  was  the  chief  attraction,  and  his 
extraordinarily  finished  and  varied  playing  of  that 
insincere  and  selfish  being  excited  general  admira- 
tion. 

It  has  not  been  noticed,  in  these  days  of  appro- 
priation, that  the  piece  was  practically  an  ingenious 
variation,  or  adaptation,  of  Dickens'  '  Little  Dorrit' 
For  here  we  find  old  Dorrit,  his  two  daughters, 
and  one  of  their  admirers  ;  also  the  constant  loans, 
the  sudden  good  fortune,  and  the  equally  sudden 
reverse.  It  was  easy  to  see  that  the  piece  had 
been  formed  by  the  evolution  of  this  one  character. 


'THE   TWO   ROSES'  45 

the  legitimate  method,  it  has  always  seemed  to  me, 
of  making  a  play  ;  whereas  the  average  dramatist 
adopts  a  reverse  practice  of  finding  a  story,  and  then 
finding  characters  for  it.  Character  itself  is  a  story. 
The  character  of  Digby  Grant  was  the  first  that 
gave  him  firm  hold  of  public  favour.  It  belongs  to 
pure  comedy — a  fidgety,  selfish  being,  self-deluded 
by  the  practice  of  social  hypocrisies,  querulous, 
scheming,  wheedling.  It  is  curious  that  a  very 
good  actor,  who  later  filled  the  part,  took  the 
villainy  azi  s^rieux,  giving  the  complaint,  "  You 
annoy  me  very  much ! "  repeated  so  often,  as  a 
genuine  reproach,  and  with  anger.  Irving's  was 
the  true  view — a  simulated  vexation,  "  You  annoy 
me  very  much  !  "  The  audience  sees  that  he  is  no^ 
"annoyed  very  much." 

After  our  actor's  visit  to  America,  his  performance 
was  noticed  to  be  more  elaborate  and  laboured — 
overdone  in  fact — it  had  lost  some  of  its  spon- 
taneousness — a  result  which,  it  has  been  noted, 
is  too  often  the  result  of  playing  to  American 
audiences,  who  are  pleased  with  broad  effects. 
This  piece  continued  to  be  played  for  about  a 
year — then  thought  to  be  a  prodigious  run,  though 
it  is  now  found  common  enough — during  which 
time  Irving's  reputation  steadily  increased.^ 

'  The  good-looking  Montague,  following  the  invariable  develop- 
ment, seceded  from  the  management  and  set  up  a  theatre  for 
himself.  This  not  proving  successful,  he  went  to  America,  where 
he  died  early. 


CHAPTER  IV 

1871 

*  THE    bells' WILLS'S    'CHARLES    l' 

AMONG  those  who  had  taken  note  of  Irving's 
efforts  was  a  "  long-headed "  American 
manager,  whose  loudly-expressed  criticism  was  that 
"  he  ought  to  play  Richelieu  !  "  This  was  a  far- 
seeing  view.  Many  years  before,  this  manager  had 
been  carrying  round  the  country  his  two  "  prodigy" 
daughters,  who  had  attracted  astonishment  by  their 
precocious  playing  in  a  pretty  piece  of  juvenile 
courtship,  called  '  The  Young  Couple.'  The  elder 
later  won  favour  by  her  powerful  and  intense  acting 
in  '  Leah  ' ;  and  he  was  now  about  taking  a  theatre 
with  a  view  of  bringing  forward  his  second  daughter, 
Isabel.  It  seems  curious  now  to  think  that  the 
handsome,  elegantly-designed  Lyceum  Theatre, 
built  by  an  accomplished  architect  on  the  most 
approved  principles,  was  then  lying  derelict,  as  it 
were,  and  at  the  service  of  any  stray  entrepreneur. 
It  could  be  had  on  very  cheap  terms,  for  at  this 
time  the   revival  of  theatrical  interest  had  not  yet 

46 


Irving  as  "Matthias"  in   ''Thk  Bells. 
Photo  by  the  London  Stereoscopic  Co. 


To  face  p   4ti. 


'THE   BELLS'  47 

come ;  the  theatre,  not  yet  in  high  fashion,  was 
conducted  on  rather  rude  and  coarse  Hnes.  The 
attractions  of  the  old  correct  comedy,  as  seen  at  the 
Haymarket,  were  waning",  and  the  old  companies 
were  beginning  to  break  up.  Buckstone  and 
Webster  were  in  their  decay,  yet  still  lagged 
ingloriously  on  the  stage.  The  pit  and  galleries 
were  catered  for.  Theatres  were  constantly  open- 
ing, and  as  constantly  closing.  Burlesques  of  the 
Gaiety  pattern  were  coming  into  favour.  In  this 
state  of  things  the  shrewd  American  saw  an  oppor- 
tunity. He  had  an  excellent  coadjutor  in  his  wife, 
a  clever,  hard-working  lady,  with  characteristics 
that  often  suggested  the  good-natured  Mrs. 
Crummies,  but  without  any  of  her  eccentricities. 
Her  husband  took  the  Lyceum,  and  proceeded  to 
form  a  company  ;  and  one  of  his  first  steps  was  to 
offer  an  enofagfement  to  Irvino". 

"At  a  public  function  my  father,"  said  Miss  Bate- 
man,  "heard  him  recite  'The  Dream  of  Eugene 
Aram,'  and  returned  home  in  a  perfect  frenzy  of 
admiration.  '  I  have  found  the  greatest  English 
actor  of  this  age,'  he  cried,  and  he  backed  his 
opinion  by  taking  the  Lyceum  Theatre.  My  father 
had  an  unconquerable  habit  of  relying  on  his  own 
judgment.  As  you  know,  Irving  in  those  days  had 
plenty  of  detractors,  and  it  was  quite  amusing  to  see 
the  effect  these  had  on  Mr.  Bateman.  He  looked 
as  though  he  would  annihilate  any  one  who  dared 
to  whisper  a  doubt  of  Irving's  genius.  I  remember 
seeing  a  man  pinned  by  him  against  a  wall  while  he 
blazed  out,  '  You  look  as  if  you  didn't  admire  him,' 


48  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

in  a  tone  that  was  sufficient  to  make  an  unfortunate 
critic  tremble  in  his  shoes." 

It  is  difficult  to  conceive  what  a  dilapidated  sort 
of  place  the  Lyceum  was  in  the  poor  old  "  Colonel's  " 
day.  No  one  had  the  awe  or  respect  for  it  that  it 
later  was  to  gain  ;  it  was  in  a  ruined  state,  asso- 
ciated with  all  kinds  of  "  scratch  "  exhibitions  and 
performances.  It  was  not,  however,  until  Irving 
had  taken  over  the  lease  and  made  arrang-ements 
with  Mr.  Arnold,  the  landlord,  that  anything  was 
done  to  put  it  in  good  order.  It  was  to  cost 
him  enormous  sums  in  the  way  of  enlarging  and 
patching  up.  He  eventually  contrived  to  make 
it  one  of  the  most  stately  theatres  in  London. 
The  arrangements  were  elegant,  and  he  re- 
tained the  vast  green  curtain — a  true  dramatic 
element. 

The  new  venture  started  on  September  ii,  1871, 
with  an  unimportant  piece,  '  Fanchette,'  founded  on 
George  Sand's  '  Petite  Fadette,'  in  which  our  actor 
had  a  character  quite  unsuited  to  his  gifts,  a  sort  of 
peasant  lover.  ^  The  object  was  to  introduce  the 
manager's  daughter  in  a  fantastical  part,  but  the 
piece  was  found  "  too  French,"  and  rather  far- 
fetched. It  failed  very  disastrously.  The  young 
actor,  of  course,  had  to  bear  his  share  in  the  failure  ; 
but  he  could  not  have  dreamt  at  that  moment  that 
here  he  was  to  find  his  regular  home,  and  that  for 
twenty  long  years  he    was    destined    never   to    be 

*  It  has  been  stated,  I  know  not  with  what  truth,  that  he  was 
engaged  at  a  salary  of  ^15  a  week,  which  was  raised  on  the 
success  of  'The  Bells'  to  ^35. 


Irving  as  "Jingle." 
Plicto  by  the  London  Stereoscopic  Co. 


7'ofiice  fy.  -19. 


'THE   BELLS'  49 

away  from  the  shadow  of  the  great  portico  of  the 
Lyceum. 

The  prospect  for  the  American  manager  was  not 
encouraeinof.      He  had  made  a  serious  mistake  at 
starting.      In  a  few  weeks  he  had  replaced  it  by  a 
version   of  "  Pickwick,"  with  a  view  of  utiHsing  his 
chief  comedian's  talent  as  Jingle.     The  play  was 
but  a  rude  piece   of  carpentry,  without  any  of  the 
flavour  of  the  novel,  hastily  put  together  and  acted 
indifferently  ;  the   actors    were    dressed    after    the 
pictures  in  the  story,  but  did  not  catch  the  spirit  of 
their    characters.      Irving    in    face    and    figure  and 
dress  was  thoroughly  Pickwickian,  and  reproduced 
Seymour  and  Hablot  Browne's  sketch,  very  happily 
catching  the  recklessness  and  rattle  of  the  original. 
Still,    it   was   difficult    to    avoid    the   suggestion   of 
'  Jeremy  Diddler,'  or  of  the  hero  of  '  A  Race  for  a 
Dinner.'    The  reason,  perhaps,  was  that  the  adapta- 
tion was  conceived  in  too  farcical  a  spirit.      It  has 
always  seemed    to    me    that   "  the    Immortal   Pick- 
wick "  should    be  treated   as    comedy    rather   than 
farce,   and  would  be  more  effective    on  the   stage 
were  the  Jingle  scenes  set  forth  with  due  serious- 
ness and  sincerity.     The  incidents  at  the  Rochester 
Ball,    for  instance,    belong   to    pure    comedy,    and 
would  be  highly  effective.     Some  years  later  Irving 
put  the  work   into  the  not   very    skilful  hands   of 
Albery,    who   reduced    it  to   the   proportions   of  a 
farce  with  some  pathetic  elements.     It  was  called 
'  Jingle.' 

At  this  time  there  was  "hanging  loose  on"  the 
theatres,   as    Dr.    Johnson    once    phrased    it,    one 


50  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

Leopold  Lewis,  who  had  been  seduced  from  an 
office  by  the  enchantments  of  the  stage.  He  had 
made  a  translation  of  a  very  striking  French  play, 
'  Le  Juif  Polonais,'  which  was  shown  to  the  new 
actor.  This,  as  is  well  known,  was  by  the  gifted 
pair  Erckmann-Chatrian,  whose  realistic  but 
picturesque  stories,  that  call  up  before  us  the  old 
"  Elsass  "  life,  show  extraordinary  dramatic  power. 
This  '  Juif  Polonais '  is  more  a  succession  of  tableaux 
than  a  formal  play,  but,  like  '  L'Ami  Fritz '  of  the 
same  writers,  it  has  a  charm  that  is  irresistible.  It 
is  forgotten  that  a  version  of  this  piece  had  already 
been  brought  before  the  public  at  one  of  the  minor 
theatres,  which  was  the  work  of  Mr.  F.  C.  Burnand, 
at  that  time  a  busy  caterer  for  the  theatres,  chiefly 
of  melodramas,  such  as  the  *  Turn  of  the  Tide  '  and 
*  Deadman's  Point.' 

"  Much  against  the  wish  of  my  friends,"  says  our 
actor,  "  I  took  an  engagement  at  the  Lyceum,  then 
under  the  management  of  Mr.  Bateman.  I  had 
successfully  acted  in  many  plays  besides  '  The  Two 
Roses,'  which  ran  three  hundred  nights.  It  was 
thought  by  everybody  interested  in  such  matters 
that  I  ought  to  identify  myself  with  what  they  called 
'  character  parts  '  ;  though  what  that  phrase  means, 
by  the  way,  I  never  could  exactly  understand,  for  I 
have  a  prejudice  in  the  belief  that  every  part  should 
be  a  character.  I  always  wanted  to  play  in  the 
higher  drama.  Even  in  my  boyhood  my  desire 
had  been  in  that  direction.  When  at  the  Vaudeville 
Theatre,  I  recited  the  poem  of  '  Eugene  Aram,' 
simply  to  get  an  idea  as  to  whether  I  could  impress 


'THE   BELLS'  51 

an  audience  with  a  tragic  theme.  I  hoped  I  could, 
and  at  once  made  up  my  mind  to  prepare  myself  to 
play  characters  of  another  type.  When  Mr.  Bate- 
man  eno-ao-ed  me  he  told  me  he  would  g^ive  me  an 
opportunity,  if  he  could,  to  play  various  parts,  as  it 
was  to  his  interest  as  much  as  to  mine  to  discover 
what  he  thought  would  be  successful — though,  of 
course,  never  dreaming  of  '  Hamlet '  or  of  '  Richard 
IIL'  Well,  the  Lyceum  opened,  but  did  not 
succeed.  Mr.  Bateman  had  lost  a  lot  of  money, 
and  he  intended  giving  it  up.  He  proposed  to  me 
to  go  to  America  with  him."  ^ 

Our  actor,  always  earnest  and  persuasive,  pressed 
his  point,  and  at  last  extorted  consent — and  the 
play,  which  required  scarcely  any  mounting,  was 
performed  on  November  25,  187 1.  At  that  time  I 
was  living  in  the  south  of  France,  in  a  remote  and 
solitary  place,  and  I  recollect  the  surprise  and 
curiosity  with  which  I  heard  and  read  of  the  power- 
ful piece  that  had  been  produced,  and  of  the  more 
extraordinary  triumph   of  the    new   actor.     Every 


^  "He  knew  'The  Bells,'"  said  the  manager's  daughter,  "and 
when  Irving  showed  him  Leopold  Lewis's  translation  he  put  it 
in  rehearsal  at  once.  This,  of  all  the  pieces,  was  the  financial 
success  ;  but  the  rest  were  mostly  artistic  successes,  of  which  my 
people  were  very  proud.  They  always  had  a  romantic  love  of  art 
for  its  own  sake.  How  we  all  lived  through  those  days  I  don't 
know.  Every  night  Irving  supped  with  us,  and  then  on  far  into 
the  night  went  excitedly  planning  and  arranging  and  mapping  out 
all  the  details  of  the  play  in  prospect.  In  everything  he  was 
encouraged  by  my  people,  and  his  mind,  worn  with  long  work  in 
the  provinces,  grew  brisk  and  alert,  and  all  his  ambitions  revived. 
His  Hamlet  was  a  revelation." 


52  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

one,  according  to  the  well-worn  phrase,  seemed  to 
be  "  electrified."  The  story  was  novel,  and  likely 
to  excite  the  profoundest  interest. 

An  extraordinary  alteration,  due,  I  believe,  to  the 
manager,  was  the  introduction  of  the  vision  of  the 
Jew  in  his  sledge,  a  device  unmeaning  and  illogical. 
In  the  original  the  morbid  remorse  of  the  guilty 
man  is  roused  by  the  visit  of  a  travelling  Jew,  which 
very  naturally  excites  his  perturbed  spirit.  But  this 
vision  discounts,  as  it  were,  and  enfeebles  the  second 
vision.  The  piece  would  have  been  presented 
under  far  more  favourable  conditions  had  it  been 
prepared  by  or  adapted  by  some  one  of  more  skill 
and  delicacy. 

The  success  was  really  owing  to  the  contrasts  to 
the  existing  methods  of  performance,  and  to  the 
impassioned  hysterical,  almost  frantic  style  in  which 
Irving  played  it.  It  was  truly  a  grand  tour  de  force, 
but  taken  as  a  display  of  dramatic  character,  it  was 
forced  and  unreal  and  did  not  represent  the  situa- 
tions. Years  later  it  was  played  by  Coquelin — 
according  to  the  truer  and  more  correct  methods 
of  interpretation.  He  represented  a  sober,  crafty 
bourgeois,  who  did  not  "give  himself  away"  so 
easily,  and  with  great  gain  to  the  dramatic  interest 
of  the  piece.  Of  course  staunch  Irvingites  laughed 
him  to  scorn  and  could  only  admit  the  home  article. 
But  the  French  actor's  reading  was  convincing, 
however  one  might  admire  Irving's  wonderful 
display. 

For  over  twenty  years  and  more  this  remarkable 
impersonation  kept   its    hold   upon   audiences,    and 


WILLS'S   'CHARLES   I.'  53 

whenever  revived  for  an  occasional  performance 
or  for  a  longer  "  run,"  it  never  failed  to  draw  full 
houses.  It  was  his  introduction  to  the  American 
audiences. 

The  new  actor  was  now  becoming  a  "  personality." 
Every  one  of  note  discovered  that  he  was  interest- 
ing in  many  ways,  and  was  eager  to  know  such  a 
man.  The  accomplished  Sir  E.  Bulwer  Lytton 
wrote  that  his  performance  was  "  too  admirable  not 
to  be  appreciated  by  every  competent  judge  of  art," 
and  added,  "  that  any  author  would  be  fortunate  who 
obtained  his  assistance  in  some  character  that  was 
worthy  of  his  powers."  A  little  later  the  actor  took 
this  hint,  and  was  glad  to  do  full  justice  to  several 
pieces  of  this  brilliant  and  gifted  writer. 

At  this  time  there  was  a  clever  young  man  "on 
town  "  who  had  furnished  Mr.  Vezin  with  a  fine  and 
effective  play,  '  The  Man  o'  Airlie,'  from  a  German 
original.  He  was  a  poet  of  much  grace,  his  lines 
were  musical,  and  suited  for  theatrical  delivery  ;  he 
had  been  successful  as  a  novelist,  and  was,  more- 
over, a  portrait-painter  in  the  elegant  art  of  pastel, 
then  but  little  practised.  In  this  latter  direction  it 
was  predicted  that  he  was  likely  to  win  a  high  posi- 
tion, but  the  attractions  of  the  stao-e  were  too  strono; 
for  him.  Becoming  acquainted  with  the  popular 
actor,  a  subject  for  a  new  creation  was  suggested 
by  his  very  physique  and  dreamy  style.  This  was 
the  story  of  the  unhappy  Charles  I.  Both  the 
manager  and  the  player  welcomed  the  suggestion, 
and  the  dramatist  set  to  work.  Though  possessed 
of  true  feeling  and  a  certain  inspiration,  the  author 


54  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

was  carried  away  by  his  ardour  into  a  neglect  of  the 
canons  of  the  stage,  writing  masses  of  poetry  of 
inordinate  length,  which  he  brought  to  his  friends 
at  the  theatre,  until  they  at  last  began  to  despair. 
Many  changes  had  to  be  made  before  the  poem 
could  be  brought  into  satisfactory  shape  ;  and,  by 
aid  of  the  tact  and  experience  of  the  manager  and 
his  actor,  the  final  act  was  at  last  completed  to  the 
satisfaction  of  all.^ 

'  Charles  I.'  was  brought  out  on  September  28, 
1872.  Having  been  present  on  this  night,  I  can 
recall  the  tranquil  pleasure  and  satisfaction  and 
absorbing  interest  which  this  very  legitimate  and 
picturesque  performance  imparted,  while  the  melo- 
dious and  poetical  lines  fell  acceptably  on  the  ear. 
This  tranquil  tone  contrasted  effectively  with  the 
recent  tumult  and  agitation  of  'The  Bells.'  It  was  a 
perfect  success,  and  the  author  shared  in  the  glories. 

Many  years  ago  now  we  followed  the  once 
popular  Wills  to  his  grave  in  the  Brompton 
Cemetery.      His     somewhat    erratic    and,     I     fear, 

'  Originally  the  piece  opened  with  the  second  act.  The 
manager  was  said  to  have  exclaimed  :  "  Oh,  bother  politics  !  give 
us  sof?ie  domestic  business."  This  led  to  the  introduction  of  the 
tranquil,  pastoral  scene  at  Hampton  Court.  The  closing  scene, 
as  devised  by  the  author,  represented  the  capture  of  the  king  on 
the  field  of  battle.  "Won't  do,"  said  the  "Colonel"  bluntly; 
"  must  wind  up  with  another  domestic  act."  Sorely  perplexed  by 
this  requirement,  which  they  yet  felt  was  correct,  both  author  and 
actor  tried  many  expedients  without  success,  until  one  evening, 
towards  the  small  hours,  the  manager,  who  appeared  to  be  dozing 
in  his  chair,  suddenly  called  out  :  "  Look  at  the  last  act  of 
'  Black-eyed  Susan,'  with  the  prayer-book,  chain,  and  all."  All 
which  may  be  legendary,  and  I  give  it  for  what  it  is  worth. 


WILLS'S   'CHARLES  I.'  55 

troubled  course  closed  in  the  month  of  December, 
1 89 1.  There  was  a  curious  suggestion,  or  remi- 
niscence, of  his  countryman  Goldsmith  in  his 
character  and  ways.  Like  that  great  poet,  he  had 
a  number  of  "hangers-on"  and  admirers  who  were 
always  welcome  to  his  "  bit  and  sup,"  and  helped  to 
kill  the  hours.  If  there  was  no  bed,  there  was  a 
sofa.  There  were  stories,  too,  of  a  "  piece  purse  " 
on  the  chimney  to  which  people  might  apply.  He 
had  the  same  sanguine  temperament  as  Goldsmith, 
and  the  slightest  opening  would  present  him  with 
a  magnificent  prospect,  on  which  his  ready  imagina- 
tion would  lavish  all  sorts  of  roseate  hues.  He  was 
always  going  to  make  his  fortune,  or  to  make  a 
"great  hit."  He  had  the  same  heedless  way  of 
talking,  making  warm  and  even  ardent  protesta- 
tions and  engagements  which  he  could  not  help 
forofettinof  within  an  hour.  But  these  were  amiable 
weaknesses.  He  was  careless  about  his  interests  ; 
and  there  was  a  story  current  that  on  being  bidden 
to  the  Palace  to  paint  one  of  the  Princesses,  he  sent 
an  excuse  that  he  had  an  engagement.  I  remember 
my  "  tempestuous  "  friend,  John  Forster,  loudly  ex- 
pressing his  approbation.  But  he  had  a  thoroughly 
good  heart,  was  as  sensitive  as  a  woman,  or  as  some 
women,  affectionate  and  generous.  His  life,  I  fear, 
was  to  the  close  one  of  troubles  and  anxiety.  He 
certainly  did  much  for  the  Lyceum,  and  was  our 
actor's  favourite  author.  '  Charles  L,'  '  Eugene 
Aram,'  'Olivia,'  '  lolanthe,'  'Faust,'  'The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield,'  '  Vanderdecken '  (in  part),  '  Don 
Quixote  ' — these  were  his  contributions. 


56  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

'Charles  I.'  was  written  after  the  correct  and 
classical  French  model.  The  opening  scene,  as  a 
bit  of  pictorial  effect — the  placid  garden  of  Hampton 
Court,  with  a  startling  reproduction  of  Vandyke's 
figure — has  always  been  admired,  and  furnishes 
"  the  note  "  of  the  play.  All  through  the  actor  pre- 
sented a  spectacle  of  calm  and  dignified  suffering, 
that  disdained  to  resent  or  protest ;  some  of  his 
pathetic  passages,  such  as  the  gentle  rebuke  to  the 
faithless  Huntley  and  the  parting  with  his  children, 
have  always  made  the  handkerchiefs  busy. 

The  leading  actor  was  well  supported  by  Miss 
Isabel  Bateman  in  the  character  of  the  Queen,  to 
which  she  imparted  a  good  deal  of  pathetic  feeling 
and  much  grace.  For  many  years  she  was  destined 
to  figure  in  all  the  pieces  in  which  he  played.  This, 
it  need  not  be  said,  was  of  advantage  for  the 
development  of  her  powers.  Even  a  mediocre 
performer  cannot  withstand  the  inspiration  that 
comes  of  such  companionship  ;  while  constant 
playing  with  a  really  good  actor  has  often  made  a 
good  actress.  But  the  manager,  who  had  some 
odd,  native  notions  of  his  own,  as  to  delicacy  and 
the  refinements  generally,  must  have  rather  incon- 
venienced or  disturbed — to  say  the  least  of  it — our 
actor,  by  giving  him  as  a  coadjutor,  in  the  part  of 
Cromwell,  an  effective  low-comedy  actor  of  genre, 
in  the  person  of  Mr,  George  Belmore,  who  did  his 
work  with  a  conscientious  earnestness.  By  and 
by  he  supplied  another  performer  who  was  yet 
more  unsuited — viz.,  the  late  Mr.  John  Clayton 
— who   used   to  open  the   night's  proceedings  in  a 


Irving  as  "Charles  I  " 
Photo  by  the  London  Stereoscopic  Co. 


To  face  p.  56 


WILLS'S   'CHARLES  I.'  57 

light,  rattling  touch-and-go  farce,  such  as  'A  Regular 
Fix.'  Both  these  actors,  excellent  in  their  line, 
lacked  the  weight  and  dignified  associations  neces- 
sary for  the  high  school  of  tragedy.  ^ 

One  of  those  vehement  and  amusinof  discussions 
which  occasionally  arise  out  of  a  play,  and  furnish 
prodigious  excitement  for  the  public,  was  aroused 
by  the  conception  taken  of  Cromwell,  which  was, 
in  truth,  opposed  to  tradition ;  for  the  Protector 
was  exhibited  as  willing  to  condone  the  King's 
offences,  and  to  desert  his  party,  for  the  "  con- 
sideration "  of  a  marriage  between  himself  and 
one  of  the  King's  daughters !  This  ludicrous 
view,  based  on  some  loose  gossip,  was,  reasonably 
enough,  thought  to  degrade  Cromwell's  character, 
and  the  point  was  debated  with  much  fierceness. 
But   somehow  it  answered  dramatically.^ 

During  the  "run"  of  '  Charles  I.'  the  successful 
dramatist  was  busy  preparing  a  new  poetical  piece 
on  the  subject  of  Eugene  Aram.  It  is  not  gene- 
rally known  that  the  author  himself  dramatised  his 
story.  This  was  produced  on  April  19,  1873,  but 
the   tone  seemed   to   be   too  lugubrious,   the  actor 

^  I  recall  the  manager's  complacent  anticipation  of  the  success 
of  his  coup.  "Clayton,"  he  said,  "was  a  clever,  spirited  fellow, 
and  would  assuredly  make  a  hit  in  the  part."  He  certainly  played 
respectably,  and  made  up  by  earnestness  what  he  lacked  in  other 
points.  He  was  particularly  proud  of  his  own  "  make-up."  But 
his  inharmonious  voice  was  against  him,  and  it  was  impossible  to 
"take  him  "  seriously. 

=^  "  The  Colonel,"  however,  artfully  encouraged  the  two  factions, 
and  was  said  to  have  sent  persons  into  the  gallery  to  shout  for 
Cromwell  and  Charles. 


58  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

passing  from  one  mournful  soliloquy  to  another. 
There  was  but  little  action.  The  ordinary  versions 
are  more  effective.  But  the  actor  himself  produced 
a  deep,  poetical  impression. 

The  manager,  now  in  the  height  of  success, 
adopted  a  style  of  "  bold  advertisement,"  that 
suggested  Elliston's  amusing  exaggerations.  ^  The 
piece  ran  for  over  one  hundred  and  fifty  nights,  to 
May  17,  1873,  and  during  a  portion  of  the  time  the 
versatile  player  would  finish  the  night  with  '  Jeremy 
Diddler.' 

The  new  season  of  1873  began  on  September  27, 
with  Lord  Lytton's  '  Richelieu.'  It  is  a  tribute  to 
the  prowess  of  that  gifted  man  that  his  three 
pieces — the  ever- fresh  and  fair  '  Lady  of  Lyons,' 
'  Money,'  and  '  Richelieu  ' — should  be  really  the 
only  genuine  stock-pieces  of  the  modern  stage. 
They  never  seem  out  of  fashion,  and  are  always 
welcomed.  It  used  to  be  said,  indeed,  that  there 
was  hardly  a  night  on  which  the  '  Lady  of  Lyons  ' 


I  (( 


Lyceum— Charles  /.,  Air.  Henry  Irving.  The  profound 
admiration  that  has  been  manifested  by  all  classes  (for  the 
past  four  months)  in  this  noble  poetic  play,  and  the  unqualified 
approval  bestowed  by  the  most  illustrious  auditors  upon  Mr. 
Henry  Irving's  great  creation  of  the  martyr-king,  have  marked 
a  new  era  in  public  taste.  The  manager  is  proud  to  be  able 
to  announce  that  the  immense  audiences  nightly  assembled 
render  any  change  in  the  performances  impossible. — Miss  Isabel 
Bateman,  in  her  tender  and  exquisitely  pathetic  portraiture 
of  Queen  Henrietta  Maria.— J/r.  George  Belmore,  in  his  vigorous 
and  masterly  assumption  of  Oliver  Cromwell."  Thus  the  modern 
Elliston.  It  was  said  that  the  whole  outlay  on  this  modest 
revival  did  not  exceed  ^100  :  a  startling  contrast  to  the  eight  or 
ten  thousand  pounds  later  to  be  expended. 


WILLS'S   'CHARLES   I.'  59 

was  not  somewhere  acted.  In  '  Richelieu  '  the  actor 
presented  a  truly  picturesque  figure — he  was  aged, 
tottering,  nervous,  but  rallying  to  full  vigour  when 
the  occasion  called.  The  well-known  scene,  where 
he  invokes  "the  curse  of  Rome,"  produced  extraor- 
dinary enthusiasm,  cheers,  waving  of  handkerchiefs, 
and  a  general  uproar  from  the  pit.  It  was  in  this 
piece  that  those  "mannerisms  "  which  have  been  so 
often  "girded  at,"  with  too  much  pitilessness, 
began  to  attract  attention.  In  this  part,  as  in  the 
first  attempt  in  *  Macbeth,'  there  was  noted  a  lack 
of  restraint,  something  hysterical  at  times,  when 
control  seemed  to  be  set  aside.  The  truth  is,  most 
of  his  attempts  at  this  period  were  naturally  experi- 
mentSy  and  very  different  from  those  deliberate, 
long-prepared,  and  well-matured  representations  he 
offered  under  the  responsibility  of  serious  manage- 
ment. 

This  piece  w'as  succeeded  by  an  original  play, 
'  Philip,'  by  an  agreeable  writer  who  had  made  a 
name  as  a  novelist,  Mr.  Hamilton  Aide — a  dramatic 
story  of  the  average  pattern,  and  founded  on 
jealousy.  It  was  produced  on  February  7,  and 
enjoyed  a  fair  share  of  success. 


CHAPTER    V 

1874 

*  HAMLET  ' '  OTHELLO  ' '  MACBETH  ' DEATH  OF 

"THE    colonel" 'QUEEN    MARY  ' 

BUT  now  was  to  be  made  a  serious  experiment, 
on  which  much  was  to  depend.  Hitherto 
Irving  had  not  travelled  out  of  the  regions  of 
conventional  drama,  or  of  what  might  be  called 
romantic  melodrama  ;  but  he  was  now  to  lay  hands 
on  the  ark,  and  attempt  the  most  difficult  and 
arduous  of  Shakesperian  characters,  Hamlet.  Every 
actor  has  a  dream  of  performing  the  character,  and 
fills  up  his  disengaged  moments  with  speculations 
as  to  the  interpretation.  The  vitality  of  this 
wonderful  play  is  such  that  it  nearly  always  is  a 
novelty  for  the  audience,  because  the  character  is 
fitfully  changeful,  and  offers  innumerable  modes  of 
interpretation. 

The  momentous  trial  was  made  on  October  31, 
1874.  It  had  long  and  studiously  been  prepared 
for :  and  the  actor,  in  his  solitary  walks  during  the 
days  of  his  provincial  servitude,  had  worked  out  a 
formal    conception   of   the    character.       There    was 

60 


'HAMLET'  61 

much  curiosity  and  expectation  ;  and  it  was  noted 
that  so  early  as  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  a 
dense  crowd  had  assembled  in  the  long  tunnel  that 
leads  from  the  Strand  to  the  pit  door.  I  was 
present  in  the  audience,  and  can  testify  to  the 
excitement.  Nothing  I  have  ever  seen  on  the 
stage,  except  perhaps  the  burst  that  greeted  Sarah 
Bernhardt's  speech  in  '  Phedre '  on  the  first  night 
of  the  French  Comedy  in  London,  has  approached 
the  tumult  of  the  moment  when  the  actor,  after 
the  play  scene,  flung  himself  into  the  King's 
chair. 

This  whirlwind,  though  much  praised  at  the  time, 
might  make  the  judicious  grieve.  There  was  no 
warrant  for  it  in  the  text — no  reason  for  taking 
possession  of  the  chair  or  throne.  The  King, 
moreover,  had  betrayed  himself  to  his  court,  so 
there  was  no  need  of  such  wild  jubilation — which 
was  opposed  to  Hamlet's  patient  and  deliberate 
methods  of  vengeance.  His  utmost  display  should 
be  sardonic  triumph.  It  further  "broke  up"  the 
whole  scene. 

Our  actor  judiciously  took  account  of  all  criti- 
cisms, and  with  later  performances  subdued  or 
toned  down  what  was  extravag'ant.  The  whole 
gained  in  thoughtfulness  and  in  general  meditative 
tone,  and  it  is  admitted  that  the  meaning  of  the 
intricate  soliloquies  could  not  be  more  distinctly  or 
more  intelligibly  conveyed  to  an  audience.  He 
played  a  good  deal  with  his  face,  as  it  is  called  : 
with  smilings  of  intelligence,  as  if  interested  or 
amused.      But,  as  a  whole,   his  conception  of  the 


62  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

character  may  be  said  to  have  remained  the  same 
as  it  was  on  that  night. 

The  play  was  mounted  with  the  favourite 
economy  of  the  manager,  and  contrasted  with  the 
unsparing  lavishness  of  decoration  which  charac- 
terised its  later  revival.  But  the  actors  were  good. 
The  sound,  "  full-bodied "  old  Chippendale  was 
Polonius  ;  Swinburne,  also  of  the  old  school,  was 
the  King  ;  and  the  worthy  Mead,  long  ago  a  star 
himself,  and  one  of  Mr.  Phelps'  corps,  "  discharged  " 
the  Ghost  with  admirable  impression  and  elocution.^ 
He  has  now  passed  away,  after  long  service,  to 
"that  bourne,"  &c.  Miss  Bateman  was  interesting, 
and  Mrs.  Pauncefort,  who  remained  long  at  the 
Lyceum,  was  an  excellent  Queen.  Actor  and 
manager  expected  much  success  for  '  Hamlet,' 
and  counted  on  a  run  of  eighty  nights,  but  it 
was  performed  for  two  hundred !  To  the  present 
hour  it  has  always  continued — though  sparingly 
revived — the  most  interesting  of  the  actor's  per- 
formances, looked  for  with  an  intellectual  curiosity. 

In  March  the  hundredth  night  of  '  Hamlet  ' 
was  celebrated  by  a  banquet,  given  in  the  saloon 
of  the  Lyceum  Theatre,  at  which  all  the  critics 
and  literary  persons  connected  with  the  stage  were 


'  I  have  seen  in  an  old  criticism  a  notice  of  a  leading  per- 
former who  in  similar  fashion  "  condescended " — so  it  was 
phrased — to  the  part  of  the  Ghost,  and  whose  impersonation 
was  declared  to  be  "  more  than  usually  gentlemanlike  and 
reputable.'^  It  were  well,  however,  that  the  old  system  of  slow 
charnel-house  tones  was  now  given  up.  There  is  no  reason  why 
this  sort  of  chautit  should  be  adopted. 


Sir  Henkv  Ikxint,  as  "  Hamlet." 
From  the  Statue  in  the  Guildlwll.  by  E.  Onflow  Ford,  R.A. 


o  face  p.  62. 


'  HAMLET '  63 

present.  This  method  of  festivity  became  familiar 
enough,  owing  to  the  never-flagging  hospitahty  of 
the  later  manager  of  the  Lyceum,  and  offered  a 
striking  contrast  to  the  older  days,  when  it  was 
intimated  that  "  chicken  and  champagne "  was  a 
ready  method  of  propitiating  a  critic.  Mr. 
Pigott,  who  had  recently  been  appointed  the 
Licenser  of  Plays,  a  man  of  many  friends,  from 
his  amiability,  proposed  the  health  of  the  lessee, 
which  was  followed  by  the  health  of  the  actor  and 
of  the  author  of  the  establishment,  the  latter,  as  it 
was  rather  sarcastically  said,  "giving  the  hundred 
and  odd  literary  men  present  the  oft-repeated  illus- 
tration of  how  far  apart  are  authorship  and  oratory." 
The  good  old  Chippendale  told  how  he  had  played 
Polonius  to  the  Hamlet  of  Kemble,  Kean,  Young, 
and  other  famous  tragedians ;  but  protested  that 
"  the  most  natural  and,  to  his  mind,  the  most 
truthful  representation  he  had  seen  was  that  of 
his  friend  here."  Something  must  be  allowed  for 
post-prandial  exuberance,  and  no  one  could  more 
shrewdly  appreciate  their  value  than  the  actor  him- 
self. We  may  be  certain  that  in  his  "heart  of 
heart "  he  did  not  agree  that  he  had  excelled 
Kemble,  Kean,  Young,  and  the  others.  It  was 
interesting,  however,  to  meet  such  histrionic  links 
with  the  past,  which  are  now  broken.  Mr.  Howe 
was  perhaps  the  only  other  then  surviving  who 
could  have  supplied  reminiscences  of  the  kind. 
Since  then  what  a  number  of  Hamlets  have  we  not 
seen  !  Forbes  Robertson,  Martin  Harvey,  our  actor's 
son — H.  B,  Irving — and  the  divine  Sarah  herself. 


64  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

A  second  Shakespearian  piece  was  now  deter- 
mined on,  and  on  February  14,  1875,  'Othello' 
was  brought  out.  This,  it  was  admitted,  was  not 
a  very  effective  performance.  It  was  hysterical, 
and  in  his  agitation  the  actor  exhibited  movements 
almost  panther-like,  with  many  strange  and  novel 
notes.  At  some  bursts  there  was  even  indecorous 
and  disrespectful  laughter.  The  ascetic  face,  too, 
was  not  in  harmony  with  the  dusky  lineaments  of 
"the  Moor."  Here,  again,  his  notion  of  the 
character  was  immature. 

But  in  the  full  tide  of  all  this  prosperity,  theatre- 
goers were  startled  to  learn  that  the  shrewd  and 
capable  manager,  the  energetic  "  old  Colonel,"  was 
dead.  This  event  occurred,  with  great  suddenness, 
on  Monday,  March  22,  1875.  On  the  Sunday  he 
had  been  at  a  banquet  at  a  Pall  Mall  restaurant  in 
company  with  his  leading  actor  and  other  friends, 
but  on  the  next  day,  complaining  of  a  headache,  he 
lay  down.  His  daughter  went  as  usual  to  the  theatre, 
to  which  word  was  soon  brought  that  he  had  passed 
away  peacefully.  It  was  thought  advisable  to  let 
the  performance  be  completed,  and  the  strange 
coincidence  was  noted  that  while  his  child  was 
bewailing  the  loss  of  her  theatrical  sire,  the  old 
Polonius,  she  was  unconscious  of  the  blow  which 
had  deprived  her  of  her  real  parent. 

There  was  much  speculation  as  to  what  arrange- 
ment would  follow,  and  some  surprise  when  it  was 
announced  that  the  widow  was  ready  to  step 
intrepidly  into  his  place,  and  carry  on  matters 
exactly   as    before.      The    mainstay    of   the   house 


'  OTHELLO  '— '  MACBETH '  65 

was  ready  to  support  her,  and  though  bound 
by  his  engagement,  he  would,  had  he  been  so 
inclined,  have  found  it  easy  to  dissolve  it,  or  make 
it  impracticable.  He  resolved  to  lend  his  best 
efforts  to  support  the  undertaking,  in  which  his 
views  would,  of  course,  prevail.  It  was  hardly 
a  prudent  arrangement,  as  the  result  proved,  for 
the  three  years  that  followed  were  scarcely  advan- 
tageous to  his  progress.  The  management  was  to 
be  of  a  thrifty  kind,  without  boldness,  and  lacking 
the  shrewd,  safe  instincts  of  the  late  manager ; 
while  the  actor  had  the  burden,  without  the 
freedom,  of  responsibility.  It  struck  some  that 
the  excellent  Mrs.  Bateman  was  "  insisting  "  some- 
what too  much  upon  the  family  element.  The 
good-hearted,  busy,  and  managing  lady  was  in 
truth  unsuited  to  bear  the  burden  of  a  great 
London  theatre,  and  what  woman  could  be  ?  her 
views  were  hardly  "large"  enough,  and  too  old- 
fashioned.  The  public  was  not  slow  to  find  all  this 
out,  and  the  fortunes  of  the  theatre  begfan  almost 
at  once  to  change.  Our  actor,  ambitious,  and 
encouraged  by  plaudits,  was  eager  to  essay  new 
parts ;  and  the  manageress,  entirely  dependent 
on  his  talent,  was  naturally  anxious  to  gratify 
him.  But  Irving  was,  in  truth,  in  a  false  position. 
Here  it  was  that  the  deliberation  of  the  "old 
Colonel "  became  valuable.  He  would  debate  a 
question,  examine  it  from  all  points,  feel  the  public 
pulse,  and  this  rational  conduct  influenced  his 
coadjutor. 

'  Macbeth  '  was  speedily  got  ready,  and  produced 

6 


66  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

on  September  i8,  1875.  Miss  Bateman,  of  Leah 
fame,  was  the  Lady  Macbeth,  but  the  performance 
scarcely  added  to  her  reputation.  The  actor,  as 
may  be  conceived,  was  scarcely  then  suited,  by 
temperament  or  physique,  to  the  part,  and  by  a 
natural  instinct  made  it  conform  to  his  own  par- 
ticular qualifications.  His  conception  was  that  of 
a  dreamy,  shrinking  being,  overwhelmed  with 
terrors  and  remorse,  speaking  in  whispers,  and 
enfeebled  by  his  own  dismal  ruminations.  There 
was  general  clamour  and  fierce  controversy  over 
this  reading,  for  by  this  time  the  sympathetic 
powers  of  the  player  had  begun  to  exercise  their 
attraction.  He  had  a  large  and  passionately  en- 
thusiastic following ;  but  there  were  Guelphs  and 
Ghibellines,  Irvingites  and  anti-Irvingites  —  the 
latter  a  scornful  and  even  derisive  faction.  I 
could  fancy  some  of  the  old  school,  honest  "Jack" 
Ryder,  for  instance,  as  they  patrolled  the  Strand 
at  midday,  expatiating  on  the  folly  of  the  public  : 
"  Call  Imn  an  actor  !  "  Some  of  them  had  played 
with  Macready,  "and  they  should  think  they  knew 
pretty  well  what  acting  was  !  "  This  resentful  tone 
has  been  evoked  again  and  again  with  every  new 
actor.  ^ 

Objection  was    taken    to  the  uncertainty  in  the 

'  Old  Gibber  thus  grumbled  at  Garrick's  rise,  and  other 
quidnuncs  at  Kemble's ;  and  when  Edmund  Kean  came,  there 
was  the  old  prompter,  who,  when  asked  his  opinion  if  he  were 
not  equal  to  Kemble,  said  :  "  Very  clever  young  man  indeed, 
very  clever ;  but  Lord  bless  you,  sir,  Mr.  Kemble  was  a  different 
thitig  altogether y 


'MACBETH'  67 

touches;  the  figure  did  not  "stand  out"  so  much 
as  it  ought.  Much  of  this,  however,  was  owing 
to  the  lack  of  effect  in  the  Lady  Macbeth,  who, 
assuming  hoarse  and  "charnel-house"  tones, 
seemed  to  suggest  something  of  Meg  Merrilies. 
On  the  later  revival,  however,  his  interpretation 
became  bold,  firm,  and  consistent.  The  play  had, 
however,  a  good  deal  of  attraction,  and  was  played 
for  some  eighty  nights. 

The  King  in  Tennyson's  play-poem,  *  Queen 
Mary,'  I  have  always  thought  one  of  the  best, 
most  picturesque,  of  Irving's  impersonations,  from 
the  perfect  realisation  it  offered  of  the  characters, 
impressions,  feelings  of  the  historic  figure  he  repre- 
sented :  it  was  complete  in  every  point  of  view. 
As  regards  its  length,  it  might  be  considered 
trifling ;  but  it  became  important  because  of  the 
largeness  of  the  place  it  fitted.  Profound  was  the 
impression  made  by  the  actor's  Philip — not  by  what 
he  had  to  say,  which  was  little,  or  by  what  he  had 
to  do,  which  was  less,  or  by  the  dress  or  "  make- 
up," which  was  remarkable.  He  seemed  to  speak 
by  the  expression  of  his  figure  and  glances  ;  and 
apart  from  the  meaning  of  his  spoken  words,  there 
was  another  meaning  beyond — viz.,  the  character, 
the  almost  diseased  solitude,  the  heartless  indif- 
ference, and  other  odious  historical  characteristics 
of  the  Prince,  with  which  it  was  plain  the  actor  had 
filled  himself.  Mr.  Whistler's  grim,  antique  portrait 
conveys  this  perfectly. 

His  extraordinary  success  was  now  to  rouse  the 
jealousy,  and  even    malignity,   which  followed    his 


68  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

course  in  his  earlier  days,  and  was  not  unaccom- 
panied with  coarse  ridicule  and  caricature,  directed 
against  the  actor's   legs   even.     "  Do  you  know," 
said  a  personage   of  Whistlerian   principles — "  do 
you  know,  it  seems  to  me  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
pathos  in  Irving's  legs,  particularly  in  the  left  leg  !  " 
A  letter  had  appeared,  in  January,  1876,  in  Ftin, 
the  Punch  of  the  middle  and  lower  class,  addressed 
to    "The    Fashionable    Tragedian."      It    affected 
alarm  at  the  report  that,  "  so  soon  as  the  present 
failure  can  with  dignity  be  withdrawn,"  he  intended 
to  startle    the    public  and    Shakespearian    scholars 
with  a  new  tragedy.     In  the  name  of  that  humanity 
"  to  which,  in  spite  of  your  transcendent  abilities, 
you  cannot  help  belonging,"  he  was  entreated  to 
forbear,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  order  and  morality. 
"  With    the  hireling   fashion   of  the  press  at  your 
command,   you   have   induced    the  vulgar  and   un- 
thinking  to   consider   you    a    model    of    histrionic 
ability."      In    the    course  of  the  investigation   the 
article  was  traced  to  a  writer  who  has  since  become 
popular  as  a  dramatist,  and  who,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, has  furnished  a  fair  proportion  of  murders 
and  other  villainies  to  the  stage.     What  was  behind 
the  attack  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  ;  but  there  are 
people   to  whom   sudden    unexpected  success  is  a 
subject   of    irritation.      Just    as    hypocrisy    is    the 
homage    paid    to    vice,    so    it    may   be    that    the 
attacks   of    this    kind    are  some    of   the   penalties 
that  have  to  be  paid  for  success.     But  the  satire 
led    to    police-court    proceedings    before    Sir    R. 
Garden,  the  modern  Sir  Peter  Laurie,  who  sagely 


HOMAGE   FROM   "T.   C.   D."  69 

remarked,  "  No  one  ever  shed  a  tear  who  saw 
Toole  "  ;  on  which  Irving  tranquilly,  "  I  am  sorry 
to  hear  you  say  that."  The  paper  was  withdrawn 
with  due  apologies. 

When  the  theatre  closed  in  1876,  the  indefatigable 
manageress  organised  a  ;tour  of  the  company  in  the 
provinces,  with  the  view  of  introducing  the  new 
tragedian  to  country  audiences.  There  was,  as 
may  be  conceived,  a  prodigious  curiosity  to  see  him, 
and  the  tour  was  very  successful.  She  brought  to 
the  task  her  usual  energy  and  spirit  of  organisation ; 
though  with  so  certain  an  attraction  the  tour,  like  a 

o 

good  piece,  might  be  said  to  "  play  itself,"  on  the 
principle  of  ma  fernme  et  cinq  potip^es.  I  can  recall 
the  image  of  the  busy  lady  on  one  of  these  nights 
at  Liverpool  or  Birmingham,  seated  in  her  office, 
surrounded  by  papers,  the  play  going  on  close  by, 
the  music  of  a  house  crowded  to  overflowing  being 
borne  to  her  ears.  There  was  here  the  old  Nickleby 
flavour,  and  a  primitive,  homely  spirit  that  contrasts 
oddly  with  the  present  brilliant  system  of  "touring," 
which  must  be  **  up  to  date,"  as  it  is  called,  with 
special  [train,  and  a  company  perhaps  a  hundred 
strong,  and  supported  by  almost  as  much  lavishness 
and  magnificence  as  is  expected  in  the  Metropolis. 
After  the  piece  came  the  pleasant  little  supper  at 
the  comfortable  lodgings. 

On  this  occasion  he  was  to  receive  the  first  of 
those  intellectual  compliments  which  have  since 
been  paid  him  by  most  of  the  leading  Universities. 
At  Dublin  he  excited  much  enthusiasm  among  the 
professors  and   students    of   Trinity  College.     He 


70  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

was  invited  to  receive  an  address  from  both  Fellows 
and  students,  which  was  presented  by  Lord  Ash- 
bourne, later  Lord  Chancellor  of  Ireland,  then  a 
Queen's  Counsel.  This  was  conceived  in  the  most 
flattering  and  complimentary  terms.  The  University 
was  never  slack  in  honouring  him,  and  later  gave 
him  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Letters. 

About  this  time  there  arrived  in  England  the 
Italian  actor  Salvini,  of  great  reputation  in  his  own 
country.  He  presented  himself  at  Drury  Lane,  then 
a  great,  dilapidated  "  Dom-Daniel,"  stored  with 
ancient  scenery,  wardrobes,  and  nearly  always  asso- 
ciated with  disaster.  In  its  chilling  area,  and  under 
these  depressing  conditions,  he  exhibited  a  very 
original  and  powerful  conception  of  the  Moor, 
chiefly  marked  by  Southern  fire  and  passion.  The 
earlier  performances  were  sad  to  witness,  owing  to 
the  meagre  attendance,  but  soon  enthusiasm  was 
kindled.  It  was  likely  that  meaner  natures,  who 
had  long  resented  the  favour  enjoyed  by  the 
English  actor,  should  here  see  an  opportunity  of 
setting  up  a  rival,  and  of  diminishing,  if  possible, 
his  well-earned  popularity.  Comparisons  of  a  rather 
offensive  kind  were  now  freely  made,  and  the  next 
manoeuvre  was  to  industriously  spread  reports  that 
he  was  stung  by  so  unworthy  a  jealousy,  that  the 
very  presence  of  the  Italian  was  torture  to  him,  and 
that  he  would  not  even  go  to  see  his  performance. 
These  reports  were  conveyed  to  the  Italian,  who 
was  naturally  hurt,  and  stood  coldly  aloof.  The 
matter  being  thus  inflamed,  Irving,  himself  deeply 
resenting  the  unjust  imputation  made  on  him,  felt  it 


CARICATURES  71 

would  be  undignified  to  seek  to  justify  himself  for 
offences  that  he  had  not  committed.  Every  one 
knows  that  during  a  long  course  of  years  no  foreign 
actor  had  visited  the  Lyceum  without  experiencing, 
not  merely  the  lavish  hospitality  of  its  manager,  but 
a  series  of  thoughtful  kindnesses  and  services. 

Indeed,  as  the  actor  day  by  day  rose  in  public 
estimation,  the  flood  of  caricatures,  skits,  &c,,  never 
relaxed.  He  could  afford  to  smile  contemptuously 
at  these  efforts,  and  after  a  time  they  ceased  to 
appear.  The  tide  was  too  strong  to  be  resisted, 
and  the  lampooners  even  were  constrained  to  join 
in  the  general  eulogy.^  At  one  of  them  he  must 
himself  have  been  amused — a  pamphlet  which  dealt 
with  his  mannerisms  and  little  peculiarities  in  a 
very  unsparing  way.  It  was  illustrated  with  some 
malicious  but  clever  sketches,  dealing  chiefly  with 
the  favourite  topic  of  the  "legs."  Mr.  William 
Archer,  who  has  since  become  a  critic  of  high 
position,  about  this  time  also  wrote  a  pamphlet  in 
which  he  examined  the  actor's  claims  with  some 
severity.  Yet  so  judicial  was  the  spirit  of  this 
inquiry,  that  the  subject  of  it  could  not  have  been 
offended  by  it,  owing  to  some  just  compliments 
which  seemed  to  be,  as  it  were,  extorted  by  the 
actor's  merit. 

The  new  Lyceum  season  opened  with  yet  one 
more  play  of  Shakespeare's — '  Richard  III.'  As 
might  have  been  expected,   he  put  aside  the  old, 

'  I  have  a  vast  collection  of  these  things,  filling  some 
twenty  great  folio  volumes — an  extraordinary  tribute  to  the 
actor's  success. 


72  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

well-established  Cibberian  version,  a  most  effective 
piece  of  its  kind,  and  restored  the  pure,  undiluted 
text  of  the  Bard,  to  the  gratification,  it  need  not  be 
said,  of  all  true  critics  and  cultivated  persons.  It 
was  refreshing  to  assist  at  this  intellectual  feast,  and 
to  follow  the  original  arrangement,  which  had  all 
the  air  of  novelty.^ 

A  happily-selected  piece  was  to  follow,  the  old 
melodrama  of  'The  Courier  of  Lyons,'  which  was 
brought  out  on  May  1 9,  i  ^JJ,  under  a  new  title,  '  The 
Lyons  Mail ' — the  title  was  furnished  by  my  friend 
Walter  Pollock,  who  always  contended  that  the  old 
one  was  a  mistranslation,  "  courier  "  really  signifying 
a  mail-baor.  The  success  of  '  The  Bells  '  had  shown 
that  for  a  certain  class  of  romantic  melodramas  the 
actor  had  exceptional  gifts  ;  and  it  may  be  added 
that  he  had  3.  penchant  for  portraying  characters  of 
common  life  under  exciting  and  trying  circum- 
stances. This  play  is  an  admirable  specimen  of 
French  workmanship.  The  characters  are  marked, 
distinct,    amusing ;    every    passage    seems    to   add 


'  At  the  close  of  the  performance,  Mr.  Chippendale  presented 
to  him  the  sword  used  by  Kean  when  playing  Richard.  Later  a 
friend  gave  him  "  the  George,"  which  the  great  actor  also  wore  in 
the  part.  Lady  Burdett-Coutts,  always  one  of  his  great  admirers, 
added  Garrick's  ring,  "  in  recognition  of  the  gratification  derived 
from  his  Shakespeare  representations,  uniting  to  many  charac- 
teristics of  his  great  predecessors  in  histrionic  art  (whom  he  is  too 
young  to  remember)  the  charm  of  original  thought."  I  may  add 
that  I  was  the  medium  of  conveying  to  him  Macready's  dress  as 
Virginius,  at  the  request  of  Mrs.  John  Forster,  to  whose  husband 
it  had  been  given  by  the  great  tragedian,  with  the  accompanying 
"  tinfoil  dagger  "  with  which  he  used  to  immolate  Virginia. 


Ikving  as  "  Duuosc." 
l-'iom  a  bust  by  the  A  uthor. 


To  face  p.  Ti. 


LYONS   MAIL— LOUIS  XL  73 

strength  to  the  interest,  and  with  every  scene  the 
interest  seems  to  grow. 

In  pieces  of  this  kind,  where  one  actor  plays 
two  characters,  a  nice  question  of  dramatic  pro- 
priety arises,  viz.,  to  how  far  the  point  of  likeness 
should  be  carried.  In  real  life  no  two  persons  could 
be  so  alike  as  a  single  person,  thus  playing  the  two 
characters,  would  be  to  himself.  The  solution  I 
believe  to  be  this,  that  likenesses  of  this  kind,  which 
are  recoofnised  even  under  diso-uise,  are  rather 
mental  and  intellectual,  and  depend  on  peculiar 
expression — a  glance  from  the  eye,  smiles,  &c. 
Irving,  it  must  be  said,  contrived  just  so  much 
likeness  in  the  two  characters  as  suited  the  situa- 
tions and  the  audience  also.  Superficially  there 
was  a  resemblance,  but  he  suggested  the  distinct 
individualities  in  the  proper  way.  The  worthy 
Lesurques  was  destined  to  be  one  of  his  best 
characters,  from  the  way  in  which  he  conveyed  the 
idea  of  the  tranquil,  innocent  merchant,  so  affec- 
tionate to  his  family,  and  so  blameless  in  life. 
Many  will  recall  the  pleasant,  smiling,  wondering 
fashion  in  which  he  would  listen  to  the  charges 
made  against  him. 

A  yet  bolder  experiment  was  now  to  be  made, 
— another  piece  in  which  Charles  Kean  made  a 
reputation,  '  Louis  XL,'  was  brought  out  on 
March  9,  1878.  It  may  be  said  without  hesitation 
that  this  is  one  of  the  most  powerful,  finished,  and 
elaborate  of  all  Irving's  efforts,  and  the  one  to 
which  we  would  bring,  say,  a  foreign  actor  who 
desired  to  see  a  specimen  of  the  actor's  talents. 


74  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

This   marvellous  performance    ripened   and   im- 
proved year  by  year,  gaining  in  suggestion,  fulness 
of  detail,  and  perfect  ease.     In  no  other  part  was  he 
so  completely  the  character.     There  was  a  pleasant 
good-humour — a  chuckling  cunning — an  air  of  in- 
difference, as  though  it  were  not  worth  while  to  be 
angry  or  excited  about  things.      His  figure  was  a 
picture,  and  his  face,  wonderfully  transformed ;  yet 
it  seemed  to  owe  scarcely  anything  to  the  "making- 
up."     Nowhere  else  did  he  speak  so  much  with  his 
expressive    features.     You    could    see   the  cunning 
thousfht    rising   to    the    surface    before    the    words. 
There  was  the  hypocritical  air  of  candour  or  frank- 
ness suddenly  assumed,  to  conceal  some  villainous 
device.    There  was  the  genuine  enjoyment  of  hypo- 
crisy,    and    the    curious    shambling    walk.      How 
admirably    graduated,   too,   the    progress    of  decay 
and   mortal    sickness,  with   the   resistance   to  their 
encroachments.      This,    with    the    portrait    of    his 
Richard — not  the  old-established,  roaring,  stamping 
Richard    of    the    stage,    but    the    weightier,    more 
composed  and  refined — dwells  long  in  the  memory, 
especially  such  touches  as  his  wary  watchings,  the 
looking  from   one  to  the  other  while  they  talk,  as  if 
cunningly  striving  to  probe  their  thoughts  ;    and  the 
curious  scraping  of  his  cheek  with  the  finger,  the 
strange    senile    tones,    the    sudden    sharp    ferocity 
betokening    the    ingrained    wickedness,     and     the 
special   leer,  as  though  the  old  fox  were   in    high 
good  humour.* 

'  Irving  always  recalled   with  pleasure  any  spontaneous  and 
unaffected  tributes  which  his  acting  has  called  forth.     A  most 


Irving  as  "  Vandkkdecken.' 
Ftom  a  bust  by  the  Author. 


To  face  p.  75. 


VANDERDECKEN  75 

A  few  years  before  this  time  Wagner's  weird 
opera,  'The  Flying  Dutchman,'  had  been  performed 
in  London,  and  the  idea  had  occurred  to  many,  and 
not  unnaturally,  that  here  was  a  character  exacdy 
suited  to  Irving's  methods.  He  was,  it  was  often 
repeated,  the  "ideal"  Vanderdecken.  He  himself 
much  favoured  the  suggestion,  and  after  a  time  the 
"  Colonel  "  entrusted  me  and  my  friend  Wills  with 
the  task  of  preparing  a  piece  on  the  subject.  For 
various  reasons  the  plan  was  laid  aside,  and  the 
death  of  the  manager  and  the  adoption  of  other 
projects  interfered.  It  was,  however,  never  lost 
sight  of,  and  after  an  interval   I   got  ready  the  first 

flattering  one  is  associated  with  'Louis  XL' — a  critical  work 
which  one  of  his  admirers  had  specially  printed,  and  which 
enforced  the  actor's  view  of  Louis's  character.  "You  will 
wonder,"  the  authors  said,  "why  we  wrote  and  compiled  this 
book.  A  critic  had  said  that,  as  nothing  was  really  known  of 
the  character,  manners,  &c.,  of  Louis  XL,  an  actor  might  take 
what  liberties  he  pleased  with  the  subject.  We  prepared  this 
little  volume  to  put  on  record  a  refutation  of  the  statement,  a 
protest  against  it,  and  a  tribute  to  your  impersonation  of  the 
character."  Another  admirer  printed  his  various  thoughts 
on  Charles  L  This  was  set  off  with  beautifully-executed 
etchings,  tailpieces,  &c.,  and  the  whole  richly  bound  and 
enshrined  in  a  casket.  The  names  of  these  enthusiasts  are 
not  given. 

One  night,  during  the  performance  of  '  Hamlet,'  something 
was  thrown  from  the  gallery  on  to  the  stage.  It  fell  into  the 
orchestra,  and  for  a  time  could  not  be  found.  A  sad-looking 
working-woman  called  at  the  stage-door  to  ask  about  it,  and  was 
glad  to  learn  it  was  found.  It  was  only  a  cheap,  common  thing. 
"  I  often  go  to  the  gallery,"  she  said,  "  and  I  wanted  Mr.  Irving 
to  have  this.  I  wanted  him  alone  in  the  world  to  possess  it." 
"  This,"  he  added,  telling  the  story,  "  is  the  little  trinket  which  I 
wear  on  my  watch-chain." 


76  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

act,  which  so  satisfied  Irving  that  the  scheme 
was  once  more  taken  up.  After  many  attempts  and 
shapings  and  re-shapings,  the  piece  was  at  last 
ready — Wills  having  undertaken  the  bulk  of  the 
work,  I  myself  contributing,  as  before,  the  first  act. 
The  actor  himself  furnished  some  effective  situa- 
tions, notably  the  strange  and  original  suggestion  of 
the  Dutchman's  being  cast  up  on  the  shore  and 
restored  to  life  by  the  waves. 

I  recall  all  the  pleasant  incidents  of  this  venture, 
the  journeys  to  Liverpool  and  Birmingham  to  con- 
sult on  the  plot  and  read  the  piece  ;  above  all,  the 
company  of  the  always  agreeable  Irving  himself, 
and  his  placid,  unaffected  gaiety.  Indeed,  to  him, 
as  to  "  Boz,"  apply  forcibly  the  melodious  lines — 

"  A  merrier  man, 
Within  the  limits  of  becoming  mirth, 
I  never  spent  an  hour  withal, 
His  eye  begets  occasion  for  his  wit, 
Which  his  fair  tongue,  conceit's  expositor, 
Turns  to  a  mirth-moving  jest." 

'  Vanderdecken,'  as  it  was  called,  was  produced 
on  July  8,  1878,  but  was  found  of  too  sombre  a  cast 
to  attract.  It  was  all,  as  Johnson  once  said,  "in- 
spissated gloom,"  but  there  was  abundant  praise  for 
the  picturesque  figure  of  the  actor.  Nothing  could 
be  more  effective  than  his  first  appearance,  when  he 
was  revealed  standing  in  a  shadowy  way  beside  the 
sailors,  who  had  been  unconscious  of  his  presence. 
This  was  his  own  subtle  sugrorestion.  A  fatal 
blemish   was  the   unveiling  of  the   picture,  on  the 


PARTNERSHIP  DISSOLVED  77 

due  impressiveness  of  which  much  depended,  and 
which  proved  to  be  a  sort  of  grotesque  daub, 
greeted  with  much  tittering — a  fatal  piece  of 
economy  on  the  part  of  the  worthy  manageress. 
An  unusually  sultry  spell  of  summer  that  set  in 
caused  "  the  booking  to  go  all  to  pieces  " — the  box- 
keeper's  consolatory  expression.  Our  actor,  how- 
ever, never  lost  faith  in  the  subject,  and  a  year 
or  two  later  he  encouraged  me  to  make  another 
attempt  ;  while  Miss  Terry  has  been  always 
eager  to  attempt  the  heroine,  in  which  she 
was  confident  of  producing  a  deep  impression. 

At  this  time  our  actor's  position  was  a  singular 
one.  It  had  occurred  to  many  that  there  was 
something  strange  and  abnormal  in  the  spectacle 
of  the  most  conspicuous  performer  of  his  time,  the 
one  who  "  drew  "  most  money  of  all  his  con- 
temporaries, being  under  the  direction  of  a  simple, 
excellent  lady,  somewhat  old-fashioned  in  her  ideas, 
and  in  association  with  a  mediocre  company  and 
economical  appointments.  There  was  here  power 
clearly  going  to  waste.  It  soon  became  evident 
that  his  talents  were  too  heavily  fettered,  and  that  he 
had  now  attained  a  position  which,  to  say  the  least, 
was  inconsistent  with  such  surroundings.  His  own 
delicacy  of  feeling,  and  a  sense  of  old  obligation, 
which,  however,  was  really  slender  enough,  had 
long  restrained  him  ;  but  now,  on  the  advice  of 
friends,  and  for  the  sake  of  his  own  interests,  he 
felt  that  matters  could  go  on  thus  no  longer,  and 
that  the  time  had  arrived  for  making  some  serious 
change.     The    balancing   of  obligations    is  always 


78  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

a  delicate  matter,  but  it  may  be  said  that  in  such 
cases  quite  as  much  is  returned  as  is  received.  The 
successful  manager  may  ''bring  forward"  the  little- 
known  actor,  but  the  litde-known  actor  in  return 
brings  fortune  to  the  manager. 

The  situation  was,  in  fact,  a  false  one.  Where 
was  he  to  find  an  opening  for  those  sumptuous 
plans  and  artistic  developments  for  which  the  public 
was  now  ripe,  and  which  he  felt  that  he,  and  he 
alone,  could  supply.?  The  breach,  however,  was 
only  the  occasion  of  the  separation  which  must 
inevitably  have  come  later.  It  seems  that  he  had 
suggested  a  change  in  stage  companionship  :  the 
attraction  of  the  "leading  lady,"  with  whom  he  had 
been  so  long  associated,  was  not,  he  thought,  suffi- 
cient to  assist  or  inspire  his  own.  As  this  arrange- 
ment was  declined,  he  felt  compelled  to  dissolve  the 
old  partnership. 

It  presendy  became  known  that  the  popular 
player  was  free,  and  ready  to  carry  out  the 
ambitious  and  even  magnificent  designs  over  which 
he  had  so  long  pondered.  The  moment  was  pro- 
pitious. Except  the  litde  Prince  of  Wales's,  there 
was  no  theatre  in  London  that  was  conducted  in 
liberal  or  handsome  style,  and  no  manager  whose 
taste  or  system  was  of  a  large  or  even  dignified 
sort.  Everything  was  old-fashioned,  meagre,  and 
mercantile.  Everything  seemed  in  a  state  of 
languor  and  decay.  No  one  thought  of  lavish  and 
judicious  outlay,  the  best  economy  in  the  end. 
There  was  really  but  one  on  whom  all  eyes  now 
instinctively    rested    as    the   only    person    who    by 


MRS.    BATEMAN  79 

temperament  and  abilities  was  fitted  to  restore  the 
drama,  and  present  it  worthily,  in  accordance  with 
the  growing  luxurious  instinct  of  the  time. 

It  was  a  rude  shock  for  the  manageress  when 
this  resolution  was  communicated  to  her.  The  loss 
of  her  actor  also  involved  the  loss  of  her  theatre. 
She  might  have  expostulated,  with  Shylock : 

"  You  take  my  house,  when  you  do  take  the  prop 
That  doth  sustain  my  house." 

It  followed,  therefore,  almost  as  a  matter  of  course, 
that  the  theatre,  without  any  exertion  on  his  part, 
would,  as  it  were,  drop  into  his  hands.  He  at  once 
prepared  to  carry  out  his  venture  on  the  bold  and 
sumptuous  lines  which  have  since  made  his  repu- 
tation. The  poor  lady  naturally  fancied  that  she 
had  a  grievance  ;  but  her  complaint  ought  in  truth 
to  have  been  directed  against  the  hard  fate  which 
had  placed  her  in  a  position  that  was  above  her 
strength.^     With   much    gallantry  and  energy  she 

^  Her  valedictory  address  ran :  "  Mrs.  Bateman  begs  to 
announce  that  her  tenancy  of  the  Lyceum  Theatre  terminates 
with  the  present  month.  For  seven  years  it  has  been  associated 
with  the  name  she  bears.  During  the  three  years  and  a  half  that 
the  business  management  has  been  under  her  special  control,  the 
liberal  patronage  of  the  public  has  enabled  her  to  wind  up  the 
affairs  of  each  successive  season  with  a  profit.  During  this  period 
'  Macbeth  '  was  produced  for  the  first  time  in  London  without 
interpolation  from  Middleton's  '  Witch.'  Tennyson's  first  play, 
'  Queen  Mary,'  was  given;  and  Shakespeare's  '  King  Richard  IIL,' 
for  the  first  time  in  London  from  the  original  text.  Mrs.  Bateman's 
lease  has  been  transferred  to  Mr.  Henry  Irving,  to  whose  attrac- 
tion as  an  artist  the  prosperity  of  the  theatre  is  entirely  attribut- 
able, and  she  confidently  hopes  that  under  his  care  it  may  attain 


80  S'lR   HENRY   IRVING 

set  herself  to  do  battle  with  fortune  in  a  new  and 
lower  sphere.  She  secured  the  old  theatre  Sadler's 
Wells,  which  she  partially  rebuilt  and  beautified, 
and  on  the  opening  night  was  encouraged  by  a 
gathering  of  her  old  friends,  who  cheered  her  when 
she  appeared,  supported  by  her  two  faithful 
daughters.  Even  this  struggle  she  could  not  carry 
on  long.  She  took  with  her  some  of  her  old 
company,  Bentley,  the  Brothers  Lyons,  and  others, 
and  she  furnished  melodramas,  brought  out  in  a 
somewhat  rude  but  effective  style,  suited  to  the 
lieges  of  the  district.  Later,  Mr.  Charles  Warner, 
greatly  daring,  gave  a  whole  course  of  Shakes- 
pearian characters,  taking  us  through  the  great 
characters  seriatim.  It  was,  indeed,  a  very  astonish- 
ing programme.  But  the  truth  was,  she  had  fallen 
behind  the  times  ;  the  old-fashioned  country  methods 
would  no  longer  "go  down."  In  a  few  years  she 
gave  up  the  weary  struggle,  and,  quite  worn  out, 
passed  away  to  join  the  "old  Colonel." 


higher  artistic  distinction  and  complete  prosperity.  In  conclusion, 
Mrs.  Bateman  ventures  to  express  her  gratitude  for  the  kindness 
and  generosity  extended  to  her  by  the  public — kindness  that  has 
overlooked  many  shortcomings,  and  generosity  that  has  enabled 
her  to  faithfully  carry  out  all  her  obligations  to  the  close  of  her 
tenancy. — Lyceum,  August  31,  1878." 


CHAPTER   VI 

1878 

THE    NEW    MANAGER    OF    THE    LYCEUM MISS    TERRY 

HIS    SYSTEM    AND    ASSISTANTS 

THE  Lyceum  was  designed  by  a  true  architect 
at  a  time  when  a  great  theatre  was  considered 
to  be  a  building  or  monument,  like  a  public  gallery 
or  museum.  In  these  days  little  is  thought  of  but 
the  salle  or  interior,  designed  to  hold  vast  audiences 
in  galleries  or  shelves,  after  the  pattern  of  a  dissent- 
ing chapel.  The  Lyceum  was  really  a  fine  structure, 
with  entrances  in  four  different  streets,  an  imposing 
portico,  abundance  of  saloons,  halls,  chambers,  and 
other  dependances,  which  are  necessary  in  all  good 
theatres.  There  was  a  special  grace  in  its  lobby 
and  saloon,  and  in  the  flowing  lines  of  the  interior, 
thoupfh  it  suffered  somewhat  from  unavoidable 
alterations.^  The  stage  was  a  truly  noble  one,  and 
offered  the  attraction  of  supplying  a  dignity  and 
theatrical  illusion  to  the  figures  or  scenes  that  were 

^  It  was  built  in  1830,  so  it  was  then  over  sixty-five  years  of  age. 
The  lease,  held  from  Lord  Exeter,  had  not  many  years  to  run — 
some  twenty  or  so,  I  believe.      It  is  now  a  music-hall. 

7  81 


82  SIR  HENRY   IRVING 

exhibited  upon  it  ;  thus  contrasting  with  the  rather 
mean  and  prosaic  air  which  the  low  and  contracted 
stag^es  of  most  modern  houses  offer.  This  dig-nified 
effect  is  secured  at  a  heavy  cost  to  the  manager,  for 
every  extra  foot  multipHes  the  area  of  scenery  to  a 
costly  degree,  and  it  requires  many  figures  to  fill  the 
void.  Beazely,  a  pleasant  humorist  and  writer  of 
some  effective  dramas,  was  the  architect  of  this 
fine  temple,  as  also  of  the  well-designed  Dublin 
Theatre^ — of  which  Irving  was  ever  boundless  in 
praise — since  destroyed  by  fire. 

It  may  be  imagined  that  the  financial  portion 
of  the  transaction  could  have  offered  little  diffi- 
culty. A  man  of  such  reputation  inspires  confi- 
dence ;  and  there  are  always  plenty  ready  to  come 
forward  and  support  him  in  his  venture,  his  abilities 
being  the  security.  A  story  was  long  industriously 
circulated  that  he  was  indebted  to  the  generosity  of 
a  noble  lady  well  known  for  her  wealth  and  liberality, 
who  had  actually  "presented  him  with  the  lease  of  the 
theatre."  Shortly  after  Irving's  death  this  statement 
was  recklessly  repeated,  and  drew  from  Mr.  Burdett 
Coutts  a  spirited  and  categorical  statement  that 
Irving  had  never  received  a  shilling  from  this  great 
lady.  The  truth  was  that  Irving  entirely  relied  on 
his  own  talent  and  resources.    According  to  a  state- 

^  He  was  described  by  a  friend  as  "  always  just  arrived  by  the 
mail  in  time  to  see  the  fish  removed,  or  as  going  off  by  the  early 
coach  after  the  last  dance  at  four  in  the  morning."  He  wrote  his 
own  epitaph — 

"  Here  lies  Samuel  Beazely, 
Who  lived  hard  and  died  easily." 


THE  NEW  MANAGER  OF  THE  LYCEUM     83 

ment  which  he  found  it  necessary  to  have  circulated, 
he  borrowed  a  sum  of  money  on  business  terms, 
which  he  was  enabled  to  pay  off  gradually,  partly 
out  of  profits  and  partly  out  of  a  substantial  legacy. 
His  first  repayment  was  made  out  of  the  gains  of 
his  provincial  tour. 

The  new  manager's  first  effort  was  to  gather 
round  him  an  efficient  and  attractive  company.  He 
was  to  make  a  brilliant  coup,  which  settled  and 
assured  the  future  of  the  enterprise.  It  became 
presently  known  that  Miss  Ellen  Terry  was  to  be 
his  partner  and  supporter  on  the  stage,  and  it  was 
instandy,  and  almost  electrically,  felt  that  triumph 
had  been  already  secured.  People  could  see  in 
advance,  in  their  mind's  eye,  the  gifted  pair  per- 
forming together  in  a  series  of  romantic  plays  ;  they 
could  hear  the  voices  blending,  and  feel  the  glow  of 
dramatic  enjoyment.  This  important  step  was 
heartily  and  even  uproariously  acclaimed.  No 
manager  ever  started  on  his  course  cheered  by  such 
tokens  of  goodwill  and  encouragement,  though  much 
of  this  was  owing  to  a  natural  and  selfish  anticipa- 
tion of  coming  enjoyment. 

The  new  actress,  a  member  of  a  gifted  family,  was 
endowed  with  one  of  those  magnetically  sympathetic 
natures,  the  rarest  and  most  precious  quality  a  per- 
former can  have.  It  may  be  said  to  be  ''twice 
blessed,"  blessing  both  him  that  gives  and  him  that 
takes — actor  and  audience.  She  had  a  winning  face, 
strangely  expressive,  even  to  her  tip-tilted  nose,  "the 
Terry  nose,"  and  piquant,  irregular  chin ;  with  a 
nervous,  sinuous  figure,  and   a  voice   charged  with 


84  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

melodious,  heart-searching  accents.  She  indeed 
merely  transferred  to  the  stage  that  curious  air  of 
fitful  efijoitement  which  distinguished  her  among 
her  friends,  which  often  thus  supplied  to  her 
performances  much  that  was  unfamiliar  to  the  rest  of 
the  audience.  She  had,  in  short,  a  most  marked 
personality.  ^ 

'  I  possess  a  rare  and  possibly  unique  bill  of  one  of  Miss  Ellen 
Terry's  earliest  child-performances,  which  it  may  be  interesting  to 
insert  here  : 

LECTURE    HALL,  CROYDON. 

FOR    ONE   NIGHT    ONLY  ! 

Tuesday    Evening,   March    13/A,    i860. 
MISS  KATE  TERRY 

AND 

MISS     ELLEN    TERRY, 

The  original  representatives  of  Ariel,  Cordelia,  Arthur,  Puck,  &c. 
(which  characters  were  acted  by  them  upwards  of  one  hundred 
consecutive  nights,  and  also  before  her  Most  Gracious  Majesty 
the  Queen),  at  the  Royal  Princess's  Theatre,  when  under  the 
management  of  Mr.  Charles  Kean,  will  present  their  new  and 
successful 

ILLUSTRATIVE   AND   MUSICAL 

DRAWING-ROOM   ENTERTAINMENT, 

In  Two  Parts,  entitled, 

♦DISTANT  RELATIONS,'  and  'HOME  FOR  THE 

HOLIDAYS,' 

In  which  they  will  sustain  several 

CHARACTERS     IN     FULL    COSTUME. 

N.B. — This  entertainment  was  produced  at  the  Royal  Colos- 
seum, and  represented  by  the  Misses  Kate  and  Ellen  Terry  thirty 
consecutive  nights  to  upwards  of  30,000  persons — 

and  so  on. 


El.I.KN    TlUiUV. 

From  an  early  photograph  by  lilliott  &■  Fry. 


To  face  p.  85. 


MISS   TERRY  85 

In  her  rather  fitful  course,  Ellen  Terry  ^  had  gone 
on  the  stage,  left  it,  and  had  gone  on  it  again.  Her 
performance  at  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre,  the 
little  home  of  comedy,  in  the  piece  of  '  Masks  and 
Faces,'  had  left  a  deep  impression,  and  I  well  recall 
the  sort  of  passionate  intensity  she  put  into  the  part. 
It  must  be  said  that  there  was  some  uncertainty  as 
to  how  she  was  likely  to  acquit  herself  in  the  very 
important  round  of  characters  now  destined  for  her  ; 

'  The  actress  is  of  a  genuinely  theatrical  family.  Readers  of 
Scott's  Life  will  recall  the  clever,  industrious  Terry,  who  was  long 
connected  with  the  Edinburgh  stage,  and  had  himself  adapted  so 
many  of  the  Scott  novels.  Miss  Terry's  father  was  also  long  con- 
nected with  the  Edinburgh  stage  ;  her  three  sisters,  her  brother, 
her  two  children,  have  all  found  their  way  to  the  "  boards."  Even 
the  precocious  child  performer,  Minnie  Terry,  is  different  from 
other  prodigy  children,  and  imparts  a  distinction  to  what  is  usually 
a  disagreeable  sort  of  exhibition.  I  take  from  the  pages  of  The 
Theatre  the  following  minute  account  of  Miss  Terry's  career  : — 
"Miss  Ellen  Terry  was  born  at  Coventry  on  February  27,  1848. 
Her  first  appearance  on  the  stage  was  made  at  the  Princess's 
Theatre,  under  the  management  of  Mr.  Charles  Kean,  on  April 
28,  1856.  On  October  15  of  the  same  year  she  appeared  as 
Puck  in  the  revival  of '  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream.'  In  Mr, 
Kean's  production  of  'King  John,'  on  October  18,  1858,  she 
acted  the  part  of  Arthur.  She  next  appeared  at  the  Royalty  and 
Haymarket  Theatres,  and  at  the  latter  house  she  played  in  'Much 
Ado  About  Nothing.'  In  March,  1863,  she  acted  Gertrude  in 
'  The  Little  Treasure,'  at  the  Haymarket.  She  then  acted  at  the 
Queen's  Theatre  in  Long  Acre,  where,  on  October  24,  1867,  she 
sustained  the  character  of  Rose  de  Beaurepaire  in  '  The  Double 
Marriage,'  also  in  '  Still  Waters  Run  Deep  ' ;  and,  on  December 
26  of  the  same  year,  she  acted  for  the  first  time  with  Mr.  Henry 
Irving,  playing  Katherine  to  his  Petruchio  in  '  The  Taming  of 
the  Shrew.'  Miss  Terry  then  retired  from  the  stage  for  some 
years,  reappearing  on  February  28,  1874,  at  the  Queen's  Theatre, 
as  Philippa  Chester  in  'The  Wandering  Heir.'     On  April   18  of 


86  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

but  her  friends  and  admirers  were  confident  that  her 
natural  dramatic  instincts  and  quick  ability,  together 
with  the  inspiration  furnished  by  so  powerful  a 
coadjutor,  would  supply  all  deficiencies.  And  these 
previsions  were  to  be  amply  justified.  But  it  was 
the  sympathetic,  passionate,  and  touching  per- 
formance of  Olivia  in  Mr.  Wills's  version  of  'The 
Vicar  of  Wakefield '  that  had  lately  drawn  all  eyes 
to  her.  It  was  felt  that  here  was  an  actress  possess- 
ing "  distinction  "  and  original  power.     A  series  of 

the  same  year  she  acted  Susan  Merton  in  '  It's  Never  Too  Late 
to  Mend,'  at  Astley's  Theatre,  a  performance  which  the  Daily 
Neivs  thought  worthy  of  'especial  mention.'  Miss  Terry's  first 
'hit,'  however,  was  made  in  April,  1875,  when  she  acted  Portia 
in  'The  Merchant  of  Venice,'  at  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre. 
At  the  same  theatre,  in  May  following,  she  acted  Clara  Douglas 
in  '  Money ' ;  and  on  August  7,  1875,  she  appeared  at  the  Prin- 
cess's Theatre,  for  one  night  only,  as  Pauline  in  '  The  Lady  of 
Lyons.'  Li  November  following  she  acted  Mabel  Vane  in  'Masks 
and  Faces';  and  in  May,  1876,  she  played  Blanche  Haye  in 
'  Ours,'  at  the  Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre.  Going  to  the  Court 
Theatre,  in  the  autumn  of  the  same  year,  she  appeared  in  '  The 
House  of  Darnley,'  and  represented  Lilian  Vavaseur  in  '  New 
Men  and  Old  Acres.'  "  Her  first  appearance  was  not  in  1856,  as 
so  many  have  set  down,  but  in  1854.  This  was  in  the  part  of 
one  of  the  young  princes  "murdered  in  the  Tower,"  though  it  has 
been  often  stated  that  the  part  was  the  child  one  of  Mamilius  in 
'  The  Winter's  Tale.'  This  was  ascertained  by  my  late  friend 
Button  Cook,  one  of  the  most  painstaking  and  accurate  of  men. 
Two  rival  houses  in  Coventry  at  this  moment  claim  to  be  her 
birthplace.  A  greengrocer,  at  No.  5,  Market  Street,  displays  a 
plate  or  placard,  announcing  that  she  was  born  in  his  house  : 
while  a  haberdasher,  at  No.  26,  over  the  way,  protests  that  "  This 
house  is  the  original  birthplace  of  Miss  Ellen  Terry,  and  no  other. 
Observe  the  name,  Terry  House."  Two  other  householders 
make  the  same  claim.     But  an  "old  nurse"  declares  for  No.  5. 


HIS  SYSTEM  AND  ASSISTANTS  87 

such  performances  at  the  Court  Theatre,  under 
Mr.  Hare's  management,  had  added  to  her  reputa- 
tion. 

For  the  opening  of  his  theatre,  the  new  manager 
did  not  much  care  to  engage  actors  of  mark,  relying 
on  a  few  sound  but  unpretentious  performers,  such 
as  the  late  Mead,  Swinburne,  and  others.^  He  did 
not  forget  some  of  his  old  comrades  in  the  early 
days  of  struggle,  such  as  Sam  Johnson.  On  his 
visits  to  Dublin,  the  new  manager  had  met  a 
clever,  ardent  young  man,  who  had  taken  share 
in  the  flattering  honours  offered  by  Trinity  College. 
This  was  the  now  well-known  Bram  Stoker,  whose 
geniality,  good-nature,  and  tact  were  to  be  of  much 
service  to  the  enterprise.  A  short  time  before  he 
was  in  one  of  the  public  offices  in  Dublin  ;  he  was 
now  offered  the  post  of  director  of  the  theatre,  or 
"  business-manager,"  as  it  is  technically  called. 
Mr.  H.  Loveday  had  been  stage-manager  under 
the  Bateman  dynasty,  and  was  continued  in  his 
office.  This  gentleman  was  really  hors  ligne  in 
this    walk,    being   quick    of    resource,    firm,     even 

'  Time  moves  so  quickly  on  that  many  will  have  forgotten 
that  the  popular  writer  Pinero,  whose  dramatic  works  are  now  in 
such  demand,  was  at  this  time  an  obscure,  painstaking  actor,  and 
one  of  the  first  to  take  service  in  Irving's  corps.  By  and  by  he 
brought  the  manager  some  slight  pieces,  such  as  '  Daisy's  Escape,' 
to  serve  as  levers  de  rideau.  These  were  neatly  written  and  full 
of  spirit.  He  thus  practised  his  pen,  and,  as  the  stage  was  of 
large  size,  had  to  aim  at  broad,  bold  effects,  a  treatment  which 
has  been  of  material  service  in  his  more  formal  pieces.  To  his 
efforts  as  an  actor  we  can  scarcely  extend  the  admiration  we  have 
for  his  writings  ;  and  his  performance  of  Sir  Peter  Teazle  at  the 
Haymarket  was  a  strange,  wonderful  thing. 


88  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

despotic  where  need  required  it,  and  eke  genial 
and  forbearing  too.  The  wonderful  and  ambitious 
development  at  the  Lyceum  has  drawn  on  all  his 
resources,  equipping  him  with  an  experience  which 
few  stage-managers  have  opportunities  of  acquiring. 
When,  as  during  the  performance  of  '  Henry  VIII.,' 
a  crowd  of  over  five  hundred  persons  passed  through 
the  stage-door  of  the  Lyceum,  a  stage-manager 
must  needs  have  gifts  of  control  of  a  high  order  to 
maintain  discipline  and  direct  his  forces.  And  who 
has  not  known  the  sagacious  and  ever-obliging 
Hurst,  who  controlled  the  box-office  for  many 
a  year!  This  proper  selection  of  officials  is  all- 
important  in  an  enterprise  of  this  kind.  Where 
they  are  well  chosen,  they  help  to  bind  the  public 
to  the  house.  It  is  well  known  that  the  manager 
was  well  skilled  in  reading  the  book  of  human  cha- 
racter, and  rarely  made  a  mistake  in  choosing 
his  followers.  On  their  side,  they  have  always 
shown  much  devotion  to  the  interests  of  their  chief 
The  two  first — Bram  Stoker  and  Loveday — were 
with  him  in  service  for  nigh  thirty  years,  and  both 
were  close  at  hand  on  the  fateful  night  of  his  death. 
Not  the  least  important  of  these  assistants  was 
an  accomplished  artist,  Mr.  Hawes  Craven,  the 
painter  of  the  scenery,  the  deviser  of  the  many 
elaborate  settings  and  tableaux  which  have  for  so 
long  helped  to  enrich  the  Lyceum  plays.  The 
modern  methods  of  scenery  now  require  an  almost 
architectural  knowledge  and  skill,  from  the  "built-up" 
structures  which  are  found  necessary,  the  gigantic 
portals  and  porticoes  of  cathedrals,  houses,  squares. 


HIS  SYSTEM  AND  ASSISTANTS  89 

and  statues.  Monumental  constructions  of  all 
kinds  are  contrived,  the  details,  carvings,  &c.,  being 
modelled  or  wrought  in  papier-mdch^  material.  It 
may  be  doubted  whether  this  system  really  helps 
stage  illusion  as  it  affects  to  do,  or  whether  more 
sincere  dramatic  effects  would  not  be  gained  by 
simpler  and  less  laboured  methods.  To  Mr. 
Craven,  too,  we  owe  the  development  of  what  is 
the  "medium"  principle — the  introduction  of  at- 
mosphere, of  phantasmagoric  lights  of  different 
tones,  which  are  more  satisfactory  than  the  same 
tones  when  produced  by  ordinary  colours.  The 
variety  of  the  effects  thus  produced  has  been 
extraordinary.  As  might  be  expected,  the  artistic 
instincts  of  the  manager  have  here  come  in  aid  of 
the  painter,  who  with  much  readiness  and  versatility 
has  been  ready  to  seize  on  the  idea  and  give  it 
practical  shape   by  his  craft.  ^     I    remember  being 

'  Amiable  and  forbearing  as  Irving  always  showed  himself 
to  his  subordinates,  he  could  be  resolute  in  seeing  that  what 
he  wished  or  wanted  was  carried  out.  Schemes  of  scenery  found 
available  on  trial  were  again  and  again  condemned  because  they 
failed  to  bring  about  the  effect  desired.  This,  however,  was  the 
secret  of  the  unity  and  homogeneousness  of  his  productions.  It 
is  admitted  that  even  in  the  matter  of  the  elaborate  orchestral 
music,  which  we  might  fancy  he  would  have  left  to  the  professors, 
he  had  much  to  say  and  alter.  It  might  strike  him  as  not  being 
suited  to  the  situation.  Fresh  experiments  would  have  to  be 
made,  to  be  also  set  aside,  to  the  despair  of  the  composer.  Then 
the  difficile  manager  would  be  heard  to  attempt,  vocally,  some 
rude  outline  of  what  he  desired,  and  this  suggestion  the  ready 
musician  would  grasp  and  put  into  shape,  and  it  would  be  agreed 
nem.  con.  that  somehow  this  last  attempt  suited  the  situation 
exactly.  This  sense  of  perfect  propriety  in  om?iibus  was  a  "  note  " 
of  the  manager's  character. 


90  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

with  him  when  he  was  reviewing  a  Httle  model 
scene  and  being  struck  by  the  gracious  and  amiable 
fashion  in  which  he  made  his  objections,  which, 
however,  involved  a  complete  reconstruction. 

Mr.  Craven,  years  ago,  practised  his  art  on  the 
boards  of  the  old  Dublin  Theatre  Royal,  under 
Mr.  Harris,  where  his  scenery  attracted  attention 
for  its  brilliancy  and  originality.  It  had  the 
breadth  and  effect  of  rich  water-colour  drawings 
of  the  Prout  school.  Scenic  effect  is  now  seriously 
interfered  with  by  the  abundant  effulgence  of  light  in 
which  the  stage  is  bathed,  and  in  which  the  delicate 
middle  tints  are  quite  submerged.  The  contrast, 
too,  with  moulded  work  is  damaging,  and  causes 
the  painted  details  to  have  a  "poorish,"  flat  air. 
Another  point  to  which  much  prominence  had  been 
given  from  the  first  at  the  Lyceum  was  the  music. 
A  fine  and  full  orchestra — on  an  operatic  scale 
almost — with  excellent  conductors,  who  were  often 
composers  of  reputation,  was  provided.  This  rich 
and  melodious  entertainment  sets  off  a  play  and 
adds  to  its  dignity,  and  may  be  contrasted  with  the 
meagre  music  ordinarily  provided  in  theatres. 

Once,  travelling  in  the  North,  the  manager  met 
at  a  hotel  a  young  musician,  who,  like  himself,  "  was 
on  tour,"  with  some  concert  party  it  might  be,  and 
fell  into  conversation  with  him  on  their  respective 
professions.  This  young  man  chatted  freely,  and 
imparted  his  ideas  on  music  in  general,  and  on 
theatre  music  in  particular.  The  manager  was 
pleased  with  the  freshness  and  practical  character 
of  these  views,  and   both  went  their  way.     Long 


HIS  SYSTEM  AND  ASSISTANTS  91 

after,  when  thinking  of  a  successor  to  Stopel — 
the  old-established  Lyceum  conductor — he  recalled 
this  agreeable  companion,  who  was  Mr.  Hamilton 
Clarke,  and  engaged  him,  at  the  handsome  salary 
of  some  six  hundred  a  year,  to  direct  the  music. 
He  was,  moreover,  a  composer  of  great  distinc- 
tion. His  fine,  picturesque  overtures  and  incidental 
music  to  'The  Merchant  of  Venice,'  and  other 
Lyceum  pieces,  still  linger  in  the  memory.  In 
due  time  this  connection  was  severed.  The 
manager  later  applied  for  aid  to  such  composers 
as  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan,  Sir  A.  Mackenzie,  Sir 
Julius  Benedict,  Sir  Charles  Stanford,  Jacobi,  and 
Mr.  German. 

Anticipating  a  little,  I  may  say  here  that  the 
Lyceum  company,  though  not  affecting  to  contain 
any  brilliant  "  stars,"  from  the  beginning  exhibited 
a  true  homosfeneousness  in  sound,  conscientious 
actors  who  have  always  "discharged  "  their  charac- 
ters in  an  effective  way,  suited  to  the  requirements 
of  the  piece.  With  a  certain  logical  consistency, 
the  manager  has  ever  considered  the  requirements 
of  his  audience  and  the  theatre.  The  introduction 
of  Mrs.  Stirling,  an  actress  of  the  first  rank,  in  such 
a  part  as  the  Nurse,  however  welcome  as  a  per- 
formance, almost  disturbed  the  dramatic  harmony, 
and  made  an  inferior  part  too  prominent.  This 
may  seem  hypercritical,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
as  to  its  truth,  and  it  shows  what  tact  is  necessary 
to  secure  an  even  performance.  Those  members 
of  the  corps  who  had  been  with  him  almost  from 
the  beginning,  the  manager  had  thoroughly  leavened 


92  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

with  his  own  methods  and  his  own  spirit,  thus  secur- 
ing a  general  harmony.  Such  useful  auxiliaries 
include  Johnson  (a  low  comedian  of  the  older 
school),  Tyars,  Archer  (another  low  comedian), 
Haviland  (a  most  useful  performer,  who  improved 
with  every  year),  and  Andrews.  Another  service- 
able player  was  Wenman,  who  seemed  in  physique 
and  method  to  be  exactly  suited  to  Burchell  in 
*  Olivia.'  During  past  seasons,  however,  this 
worthy  man  has  been  removed  from  the  company 
by  death.  On  a  stranger  these  players  might  pro- 
duce little  effect ;  but  the  habitues  of  the  theatre 
have  grown  familiar  with  their  ways  and  faces  and 
figures,  and  would  miss  them  much  were  they 
absent  from  a  new  play. 

In  addition  to  this  permanent  body,  the  manager 
was  accustomed  occasionally  to  call  to  his  aid  per- 
formers of  mark,  such  as  Terriss  and  Forbes 
Robertson,  the  former  an  admirable  actor  in  special 
characters  suited  to  his  robustness,  though  his 
powers  would  have  gained  by  some  refining. 
Forbes  Robertson  is  a  picturesque  performer 
of  many  resources,  who  can  supply  colour  and 
passion  at  need.  Arthur  Stirling  and  Macklin 
— excellent,  well-trained  actors  both — have  been 
found  at  the  Lyceum,  as  also  Mr.  Bishop. 
Of  the  ladies  there  are  Miss  Genevieve  Ward, 
the  excellent  Mrs.  Pauncefort  (of  the  school  of 
Mrs.  Chippendale),  Miss  Coleridge,  occasionally  the 
vivacious  Miss  Kate  Phillips,  and  Miss  Emery, 
now  Mrs.  Cyril  Maude,  who  took  Miss  Terry's 
place    in    case  of   indisposition  or  fatigue. 


HIS  SYSTEM  AND  ASSISTANTS  93 

The  new  manager  made  some  decorative  altera- 
tions in  the  theatre  which,  considering  the  Httle 
time  at  his  disposal,  did  credit  to  his  taste  and 
promptitude.  The  auditorium  was  treated  in 
sage  green  and  turquoise  blue  ;  the  old,  familiar 
"cameos"  of  Madame  Vestris's  day,  ivory  tint, 
were  still  retained,  while  the  hangings  were  of  blue 
silk,  trimmed  with  amber  and  gold,  with  white  lace 
curtains.  The  ceiling  was  of  pale  blue  and  gold. 
The  stalls  were  upholstered  in  blue,  "  a  special 
blue"  it  was  called;  escaloped  shells  were  used 
to  shield  the  glare  of  the  footlights.  The  dressing- 
rooms  of  the  performers,  the  Royal  box,  and  Lady 
Burdett-Coutts'  box  were  all  handsomely  decorated 
and  rearranged,  the  whole^  being  directed  by  Mr. 
A.  Darbyshire,  a  Manchester  architect.  This, 
however,  was  but  the  beginning  of  a  long  series  of 
structural  alterations,  additions,  and  costly  decora- 
tions, pursued  over  a  term  of  a  dozen  years. 

On  Monday,  December  ;^o,  1878,  the  theatre  was 
opened  with  the  revived  '  Hamlet.'  This  was  the 
first  of  those  glittering  nights — or  premieres — which 
were  to  become  a  feature  of  the  London  season. 
From  the  brilliancy  of  the  audience — which  usually 
included  all  that  was  notable  in  the  arts  and  profes- 
sions— as  well  as  from  the  rich  dresses,  jewels,  and 
flowers,  which  suggested  the  old  opera  nights,  the 
spectacle  became  one  of  extraordinary  interest,  and 
invitations  were  eagerly  sought.  Here  were  seen 
the  regular  habitu^s^  who  from  the  first  were 
always  invited  ;  for  the  constancy  of  the  manager  to 
his  old  friends  was  well  known. 


94  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

The  play  was  given  with  new  scenery,  dresses, 
music,  &c.  The  aim  was  to  cast  over  the  whole 
a  poetical  and  dreamy  glamour,  which  was  exhibited 
conspicuously  in  the  treatment  of  the  opening 
scenes  when  the  Ghost  appeared.  There  were  the 
mysterious  battlements  seen  at  a  distance,  shadowy 
walls,  and  the  cold  blue  of  breaking  day.  There 
were  fine  halls,  with  arches  and  thick  pillars  of 
Norman  pattern.  Irving's  version  of  the  part  was 
in  the  main  the  same  as  before,  but  it  was  noted 
that  he  had  moderated  it,  as  it  were  ;  it  became 
more  thoughtful. 

Of  course,  much  interest  and  speculation  was 
excited  by  the  new  actress,  who  exhibited  all  her 
charming  grace  and  winsomeness,  with  a  tender 
piteousness,  when  the  occasion  called.  "Why,"  she 
told  an  interviewer,  "  I  am  so  high  strung  on  a  first 
night,  that  if  I  realised  there  was  an  audience  in 
front  staring  at  me,  I  should  fly  off  and  be  down  at 
Winchelsea  in  two  twos ! "  On  this  momentous 
night  of  trial  she  thought  she  had  completely  failed, 
and  without  waitinor  for  the  fifth  act  she  flungr  herself 
into  the  arms  of  a  friend,  repeating,  "  I  have  failed, 
I  have  failed ! "  She  drove  up  and  down  the 
Embankment  half  a  dozen  times  before  she  found 
courage  to  go  home. 

This  successful  inauguration  of  his  venture  was  to 
bear  fruit  in  a  long  series  of  important  pieces,  each 
produced  with  all  the  advantages  that  unsparing 
labour,  good  taste,  study,  and  expense  could  supply. 
Who  could  have  dreamed — or  did  he  dream  on  that 
night  .-* — that  no  fewer  than  nine  of  Shakespeare's 


Irvisg  as  ■'  Hamlf.t." 
Front  the  painting  by  Edicin  Long,  A.R.A. 
(By  kind  permission  of  Mr.  Burdett-Coutts.) 


To/,ii.ep.  94. 


HIS  SYSTEM  AND  ASSISTANTS  95 

greatest  plays,  a  liberal  education  for  audiences,  were 
destined  to  be  his  contribution  to  the  "public  stock 
of  harmless  pleasure  "  ?  Every  one  of  taste  is  under  a 
serious  obligation  to  him,  having  consciously  or  un- 
consciously learnt  much  from  this  accomplished  man. 

On  this  occasion,  adopting  a  custom  since  always 
adhered  to,  the  manager  had  his  arrangement  of  the 
play  printed,  with  an  introduction  by  a  good  Shake- 
spearian student,  who  was  destined  to  be  a  well- 
known  figure  in  the  entourage  of  the  Lyceum.  This 
was  "Frank  Marshall,"  with  his  excited,  bustling 
ways,  and  eccentric  exterior.  He  was  always  bon 
enfant.  He  had  written  one  very  pleasing  comedy, 
'  False  Shame,'  and  was  also  rated  as  a  high  autho- 
rity on  all  Shakespearian  matters.  He  published 
an  elaborate  "  Study  of  Hamlet,"  and  later  induced 
Irving  to  join  him  in  an  ambitious  edition  of  Shake- 
speare, which  took  some  years  to  complete.  He 
was  also  a  passionate  bibliomaniac,  though  not  a 
very  judicious  one,  lacking  the  necessary  restraint 
and  judgment.  He  had  somewhat  of  a  troubled 
course,  like  so  many  a  London  litterateur. 

At  this  time  the  average  theatrical  criticism,  from 
lack  of  suitable  stimulant  to  excite  it,  was  not  nearly 
so  discriminating  as  it  is  now,  when  there  is  a  body 
of  well-trained,  capable  men,  who  sign  their  names 
and  carry  out  their  duty  with  much  independence. 
It  is  extraordinary  what  a  change  has  taken  place 
in  this  respect.  At  the  opening  of  Irving's  manage- 
ment there  was  certainly  a  tendency  to  wholesale 
and  lavish  panegyric.  Not  unnaturally,  too,  for  all 
were  grateful  to  one  who  was  making"  such  exertion 


06  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

to  restore  the  stage  to  elegance.  Some  of  the  ordi- 
nary newspapers,  however,  overwhelmed  him  with 
their  rather  tedious,  indiscriminate  praises  ;  it  seemed 
as  though  too  much  could  not  be  said.  There  is  no 
praise  where  everything  is  praised  ;  nor  is  such  very 
acceptable  to  its  object.  A  really  candid  discussion 
on  the  interpretation  of  a  character,  with  reasonable 
objections  duly  made,  and  argued  out  with  respect, 
and  suggestions  put  forward — this  becomes  of  real 
profit  to  the  performer.  Thus  in  one  single  short 
criticism  on  a  character  of  Garrick's — he  was  once 
playing  a  gentleman  disguised  as  a  valet — Johnson 
furnished  not  only  Garrick,  but  all  players  too,  with 
an  invaluable  principle  which  is  the  foundation  of 
all  acting  :  "  No,  sir  ;  he  does  not  let  the  gentleman 
break  out  through  the  footman." 

A  new  play  at  the  Lyceum  was  rarely  concluded 
without  a  speech  being  insisted  upon.  Irving  him- 
self favoured  this  practice,  but  reluctantly,  yielding 
only  to  the  irresistible  pressure  of  ardent  and  clam- 
orous admirers.  The  system  now  obtains  at  every 
theatre  where  there  is  an  "  actor-manager."  But 
there  can  be  no  question  but  that  it  is  an  abuse,  and 
a  perilous  one.  It  encourages  a  familiarity,  and  often 
insolence,  which  shakes  authority.  The  manager, 
when  he  makes  his  speech,  seems  to  invite  the 
galleries  down  on  to  his  stage,  and  it  is  to  be  noticed 
that  the  denizens  of  these  places  are  growing  bolder, 
and  fancy,  not  unreasonably,  that  they  are  entitled 
to  have  their  speech,  as  the  manager  has  his.  ^     It 

'  Once,  at  Edinburgh,  during  a  performance  of  '  The  Merchant 
of  Venice,'    the    students    of    the    University   had    been   very 


'LADY   OF   LYONS'  97 

also     impairs    the    mystic     feeling    which    always 
attached  to  the  figure  of  the  actor. 

The  manager  was  always  guided  by  the  principle 
of  alternating  his  greater  attempts  with  others  on 
a  more  moderate  and  less  pretentious  scale.  With 
this  view  he  brought  out,  on  April  17,  1879,  the 
ever-attractive  '  Lady  of  Lyons ' — which  would 
seem  naturally  suited  to  him  and  his  companion. 
He  was  himself  in  sympathy  with  the  piece,  and 
prepared  it  on  romantic  and  picturesque  lines.  It 
has  been  usually  presented  in  a  stagey,  declamatory 
fashion,  as  affording  opportunity  to  the  two  leading 
performers  for  exhibiting  a  robustious  or  elocution- 
ary passion.  It  was  determined  to  tone  the  whole 
down,  as  it  were,  and  present  it  as  an  interesting 
love-story,  treated  with  restraint.  Nothing  could 
be  more  pleasing  than  the  series  of  scenes  thus 
unfolded,  set  off  by  the  not  unpicturesque  costumes 
of  the  revolutionary  era.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive 
now  of  a  Pauline  otherwise  attired.  It  would  seem 
that  a  play  always  presented  itself  to  our  manager's 
eye  as  a  series  of  poetical  scenes  which  take  shape 
before  him,  with  all  their  scenery,  dresses,  and 
situations.  As  he  mused  over  them  they  fell  into 
their  place — the  figures  moved  ;    a  happy  suitable 


tumultuous,  and  scarcely  a  word  was  heard  of  the  first  scenes. 
Suddenly  the  drop-scene  descended,  and  the  actor  appeared. 
There  was  silence ;  then,  with  perfect  good-humour  and  firmness, 
he  said  that,  owing  to  some  misunderstanding,  the  first  portion 
of  the  piece  had  not  been  heard  by  the  audience,  and  that  he  was 
now  going  to  recommence  the  whole  from  the  beginning.  And 
so  it  was  done. 


98  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

background  suggests  itself,  with  new  and  striking 
arrangements  ;  and  thus  the  whole  order  and  tone 
of  the  piece  furnishes  him  with  inspiration. 

Indeed,  it  must  be  confessed  that  there  are  few 
plays  we  should  be  less  inclined  to  part  with  than 
this  hackneyed  and  well-worn  drama.  The  "  casual 
sight  "  of  that  familiar  title  on  the  red-brick  corner 
wall  in  some  country  or  manufacturing  town — it  may 
be  weeks  old,  the  old  paper  flapping  flag-like — 
always  touches  a  welcome  note,  and  the  names  of 
the  characters  have  a  romantic  sound.  In  the  story 
there  is  the  charm  of  simple  effects  and  primitive 
emotion ;  it  is  worked  out  without  violence  or 
straining,  and  all  through  the  ordinary  sympathies 
are  firmly  struck,  and  in  the  most  touching  way. 
Tinselly  or  superficial  as  many  have  pronounced  the 
piece,  there  is  depth  in  it.  So  artfully  is  it  com- 
pounded that  it  is  possible  to  play  the  two  characters 
in  half  a  dozen  different  ways  ;  and  clever  actors 
have  exerted  themselves  to  gloss  over  the  weak 
spot  in  Melnotte's  character — the  unworthy  decep- 
tion, which  involves  loss  of  respect.  Pauline,  how- 
ever, is  a  most  charming  character,  from  the  mixture 
of  emotions  ;  if  played,  that  is,  in  a  tender,  impulsive 
way,  and  not  made  a  vehicle  for  elocutionary 
display.  The  gracious,  engaging  part  of  the  heroine 
has  been  essayed  by  our  most  graceful  actresses, 
after  being  created  by  the  once  irresistible  Miss 
Helen  Faucit.  For  over  six  years  this  drama  has 
held  its  ground,  and  is  always  being  performed. 
The  young  beginner,  just  stepping  on  the  boards, 
turns  fondly  to  the  effective  "gardener's  son,"  and 


"THE   WALRUS"  99 

is  all  but  certain  that  he  could  deliver  the  passage 
ending,  ''Dost  like  the  picture?'' — a  burst  often 
smiled  at,  but  never  failing  to  tell.  Every  one  of 
the  characters  is  good  and  actable,  and,  though  vi^e 
may  have  seen  it  fifty  times,  as  most  playgoers 
have,  there  is  always  a  reserve  of  novelty  and 
attraction  left  which  is  certain  to  interest.  In 
Irving's  Claude  there  was  a  sincerity  and  earnest- 
ness which  went  far  to  neutralise  these  highly 
artificial,  not  to  say  "  high-fiown,"  passages  which 
have  so  often  excited  merriment.  Miss  Terry,  as 
may  be  conceived,  was  perfectly  suited  in  her 
character — the  ever-charming  Pauline ;  and  dis- 
played an  abundance  of  spontaneousness,  sympathy, 
and  tenderness.^ 

The  public  was  at  this  time  to  learn  with  interest 
that  the  actor  was  to  accompany  Lady  Burdett- 
Coutts,  with  whom  he  was  in  high  favour,  on  a 
voyage  to  the  Mediterranean  in  her  yacht  The 
Walrus,  and  all  was  speculation  as  to  the  party  and 
their  movements.  But  this  party  of  pleasure  was  to 
be  fruitful  of  some  romantic  results,  for  a  young 
American  found  favour  in  the  eyes  of  his  hostess — 
who  shortly  after  married  him.  Unassisted  by  this 
alliance,  Mr.  Bartlett — now  Mr.  Burdett-Coutts, 
M.P. — has  fashioned  for  himself  a  distinguished 
career.  During  this  pleasant  voyage  The  Walrus 
directed  her  course  to  Venice  and  various  Italian 
cities — all   new  and  welcome  to  our  actor,  who  was 

^  The  late  Earl  of  Lytton  once  told  me  many  interesting 
particulars  of  his  father's  popular  play.  It  was  really  an  adapta- 
tion from  a  French  story  called  "The  Bellows-mender." 


100  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

at  the  same  time  taking  stock  of  the  manners,  cus- 
toms, dresses,  &c.,  of  the  country,  and  acquiring,  as 
it  were,  the  general  flavour  and  couleur  locale.  His 
scene-painter  had  also  found  his  way  there,  and  was 
filling  his  sketch-book  with  rich  "  bits  of  colour," 
picturesque  streets,  and  buildings.  The  manager 
was,  in  fact,  pondering  over  a  fresh  Shakespearian 
venture — an  Italian  play,  which  was  to  be  produced 
with  the  new  season.  He  was  about  to  set  on  the 
stage  '  The  Merchant  of  Venice,'  with  every  aid  that 
money  and  taste  could  supply.  The  moment  this 
selection  was  known,  it  was  felt  almost  universally 
that  it  was  exactly  the  piece  that  should  have  been 
chosen.  Every  one  anticipated  by  a  sort  of  instinct 
what  entertainment  was  in  store  for  them  :  for  here 
was  the  part  and  here  was  the  actor.  Notwith- 
standing the  elaborate  character  of  the  preparations, 
the  whole  was  "got  up"  in  some  four  weeks,  though 
this  period  did  not  comprise  the  long  course  of 
private  study  and  meditation  during  which  the 
scheme  was  gradually  matured  in  his  mind.  When 
on  his  yachting  expedition  he  had  taken  advantage 
of  a  hasty  visit  to  Tangier  to  purchase  Moorish 
costumes  to  be  used  in  the  Shakespearian  spectacle 
he  was  preparing. 

To  fill  up  the  interval  he  got  ready  Colman's 
drama  'The  Iron  Chest,'  produced  on  September 
27,  1879.  This  powerful  but  lugubrious  piece  has 
always  had  an  unaccountable  attraction  for  trage- 
dians. Sir  Edward  Mortimer  belongs,  indeed,  to 
the  family  of  Sir  Giles  Overreach.  The  character 
offered    temptation    to    our    actor    from    its   long- 


SIR   EDWARD   MORTIMER  101 

sustained,  mournful,  and  poetical  soliloquies,  in 
which  the  state  of  the  remorseful  soul  was  laid  bare 
at  protracted  length  ;  but,  though  modified  and 
altered,  the  piece  was  hopelessly  old-fashioned.  It  is 
impossible  in  our  day  to  accept  seriously  a  "band  of 
robbers,"  who,  moreover,  live  "  in  the  forest"  ;  and 
the  "proofs"  of  Sir  Edward's  guilt,  a  knife  and 
blood-stained  cloth,  carefully  preserved  in  an  old 
chest  which  is  always  in  sight,  have  a  burlesque  air. 
Irving  very  successfully  presented  the  image  of 
the  tall,  wan,  haggard  man,  a  prey  to  secret  remorse 
and  sorrow.  Wilford,  the  secretary,  is  by  anticipa- 
tion, as  it  were,  in  possession  of  the  terrible  secret 
of  the  murder,  and  is  himself  a  character  of  much 
force  and  masterful  control.  He  was  really  the 
complement  of  the  leading  personage.  But  Norman 
Forbes — one  of  the  Forbes  Robertson  family, 
ingenuus  puer,  and  likewise  boncB  indolis — made  of 
this  part  merely  an  engaging  youth,  who  certainly 
ought  to  have  given  no  anxiety  in  the  world  to  a 
conscience-stricken  murderer.  The  terrors  of  Sir 
Edward  would  have  had  more  force  and  effect  had 
he  been  in  presence  of  a  more  robust  and  resolute 
personage — one  who  was  not  to  be  drawn  off  the 
scent,  or  shaken  off  his  prey.  This  piece  well 
served  its  purpose  as  "a  stop-gap"  until  the  new 
one  was  ready. 


CHAPTER   VII 

1879 
'the  merchant  of  Venice' 

THIS  great  and  attractive  play  was  now  ready  ; 
all  was  anticipation  and  eager  interest.  The 
night  of  its  production — November  i,  1879 — was 
a  festive  one.  The  house  was  most  brilliant :  and 
indeed  this  may  be  accounted  the  first  regular,  official 
Lyceum  premiere.  I  recall  that  among  the  audience 
were  Tom  Taylor  and  Henry  Byron,  names  that 
now  seem  ghost-like,  so  rapidly  do  literary  shadows 
depart.  Like  some  rich  Eastern  dream,  steeped  in 
colours  and  crowded  with  exquisite  figures  of 
enchantment,  the  gorgeous  vision  of  the  pageant 
seems  now  to  rise  in  the  cold,  sober  daylight.  As  a 
view  of  Venetian  life,  manners,  and  scenery,  it  has 
rarely  been  matched.  The  figures  seemed  to  have 
a  grace  that  belonged  not  to  the  beings  that  pace, 
and  declaim  upon,  the  boards.  Add  the  back- 
ground, the  rich,  exquisite  dresses,  the  truly  noble 
scenery — a  revel  of  colour,  yet  mellowed — the  elegant 

theatre  itself  crammed  with  an  audience  as  elegant, 

102 


ELLliN    TeKRY    as    "  PoKI  lA." 

Fhoto  by  Lock  &■  Whitfield,  Ealing,  IV. 


To  face  p.  103. 


'THE   MERCHANT   OF  VENICE'  103 

and  it  may  be  conceived  what  a  night  it  was.  The 
scenery  alone  would  take  an  essay  to  itself,  and  it  is 
hard  to  say  which  of  the  three  artists  engaged  most 
excelled.  The  noble  colonnade  of  the  ducal  palace 
was  grand  and  imposing  ;  so  was  the  lovely  interior 
of  Portia's  house  at  Belmont,  with  its  splendid 
amber  hangings  and  pearl-grey  tones,  its  archings 
and  spacious  perspective.  But  the  Court  scene, 
with  its  ceiling  painted  in  the  Verrio  style,  its 
portraits  of  Doges,  the  crimson  walls  with  gilt 
carvings,  and  the  admirable  arrangements  of  the 
throne,  &c.,  surely  for  taste,  contrivance,  and  effect 
has  never  been  surpassed.  The  whole  effect  was 
produced  by  the  painting,  not  by  built-up  structures. 
The  dresses  too — groupings,  servants,  and  retainers 
— what  sumptuousness !  The  pictures  of  Moroni 
and  Titian  had  been  studied  for  the  dove-coloured 
cloaks  and  jerkins,  the  violet  merchant's  gown  of 
Antonio,  the  short  hats — like  those  of  our  day — and 
the  frills.  The  general  tone  was  that  of  one  of 
Paolo  Veronese's  pictures — as  gorgeous  and  dazzling 
as  the  mdlange  of  dappled  colour  in  the  great  Louvre 
picture.  There  was  a  judicious  reserve  too,  and 
none  of  that  overloading  of  illustration  without 
a  propos,  which  was  such  a  serious  blemish  in  later 
productions. 

Shylock  was  not  the  convential  usurer  with 
patriarchal  beard  and  flowing  robe,  dirty  and  hook- 
nosed, but  a  picturesque  and  refined  Italianised 
Jew,  genteelly  dressed  :  a  dealer  in  money,  in  the 
country  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,  where  there  is  an 
aristocracy  of  merchants.      His  eyes  are  dark  and 


104  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

piercing,  his  face  is  sallow,  his  hair  spare  and 
turning  grey ;  he  wears  a  black  cap,  a  brown 
gaberdine  faced  with  black,  and  a  short  robe 
underneath.  ^  And,  at  the  same  time,  it  must  be 
said  that  this  system  of  reviving  the  tone  of  the  era 
seems  quite  ?//z- Shakespearian.  These  revels  and 
Venetian  dances  and  gondolas,  put  in  for  "  local 
colour,"  have  really  litde  to  do  with  high  tragedy 
and  dramatic  interest  :  persons  of  our  day,  when 
involved  in  an  acute  crisis,  have  no  thought  of  such 
material  things  about  them.  You  must  "  come  to 
the  'osses."  Everything  else  seems  trivial  and 
interruptive.  But  this  "overloading"  of  the  Bard 
is  a  fertile  theme  and  almost  requires  a  treatise  to 
itself. 

The    "Trial    scene,"  with    its    shifting   passions, 
must   have  stamped    Irving  as  a  fine   actor.     See 


'  Sometimes  one  of  his  richer  revivals  would  cost  eight  or  ten 
thousand  pounds.  Further,  as  he  was  easy  and  magnificent  in  his 
dealings,  he  was  charged  always  the  full  or  fullest  price.  How 
unlike  the  worthy  old  "  Colonel  "  Bateman  !  I  was  once  with  the 
latter  when  a  traveller  in  stuffs  was  shown  in  and  unfolded  his 
cheap  wares,  blue,  green,  crimson,  which  the  Colonel  felt  and 
tested  all  ways,  and  got  his  own  price  too  !  Everybody  had  their 
"pull  "at  the  "Chief."  He  was  always  splendid  in  his  private 
transactions.  Any  book  that  he  desired  at  an  auction  he  bought 
without  limit  of  price.  After  one  visit  to  Mr.  Quaritch  in  search 
of  a  book  of  German  costumes  for  '  Faust,'  he  came  away  having 
paid  ;^8o  for  a  number  of  volumes  !  I  was  once  with  him  in 
Birmingham  at  Christmas-time,  when  he  brought  me  to 
Elkington's  to  choose  handsome  presents  for  the  company.  It 
was  fine  to  see  in  what  stately  style  he  selected — pointing  to  this 
and  that  piece  of  silver,  "  Send  up  that ! "  I  was  not  forgotten. 
All  which  was  to  have  its  natural  sequel. 


Ikving  as  "Shylock  " 

I'hoto  by  f.yddell,  Sawyer,  <&•  I>iinr.. 


To  face  p    105. 


'THE   MERCHANT   OF  VENICE*  105 

him  as  he  enters,  having  laid  aside  his  gaberdine 
and  stick,  and  arrayed  in  his  short-skirted  gown, 
not  with  flowine  but  tia-htened  sleeves,  so  that  this 
spareness  seems  to  lend  a  general  gauntness  to  his 
appearance.  There  he  stands,  with  eyes  half  fur- 
tively, half  distrustfully  following  the  Judge  as  he 
speaks.  When  called  upon  to  answer  the  appeal 
made  to  him  "from  the  bench,"  how  different  from 
the  expected  conventional  declaration  of  violent 
hatred!  Instead,  his  explanation  is  given  with  an 
artful  adroitness  as  if  drawn  from  him.  Thus,  "If 
you  deny  it  "  is  a  reminder  given  with  true  and 
respectful  dignity,  not  a  threat  ;  and  when  he  further 
declares  that  it  "is  his  humour,"  there  is  a  candour 
which  might  commend  his  case,  though  he  cannot 
restrain  a  gloating  look  at  his  prey.  But  as  he 
dwells  on  the  point,  and  gives  instances  of  other 
men's  loathing,  this  malignity  seems  to  carry  him 
away,  and,  complacent  in  the  logic  of  his  illustration 
of  the  "  gaping  pig"  and  "  harmless  necessary  cat," 
he  bows  low  with  a  Voltairean  smile,  and  asks,  ''Are 
you  answered?''  How  significant,  too,  his  tapping 
the  bag  of  gold  several  times  with  his  knife,  in 
rejection  of  the  double  sum  offered,  meant  as  a 
calm,  business-like  refusal ;  and  the  "  I  would  have 
my  bond ! "  emphasised  with  a  meaning  clutch. 
Then  the  conclusion,  "  Fie  upon  your  law,"  delivered 
with  folded  arms  and  a  haughty  dignity  ;  indeed,  a 
barrister  might  find  profit  here,  and  study  the  art  of 
putting  a  case  with  adroitness  and  weight.  But 
when  Antonio  arrives  his  eyes  follow  him  with  a 
certain    uneasy   distrust,    and    on     Bellario's    letter 


106  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

being  read  out  he  listens  with  a  quiet  interest, 
plucking  his  beard  a  Httle  nervously.  As,  however, 
he  sees  the  tone  the  young  lawyer  takes,  he  puts  on 
a  most  deferential  and  confidential  manner,  which 
colours  his  various  compliments  :  "  O  wise  young 
judge,"  "A  Daniel,"  &c.,  becoming  almost  wheed- 
ling.    And  when  he  pleads  his  oath — 


"Shall  I  lay  perjury  upon  my  soul? 
No,  not  for  Venice  !  " 


there  is  a  hypocritical  earnestness,  as  if  he  were 
given  his  reason  privately  to  the  counsel,  though 
there  is  a  strange,  indescribable  sneer  conveyed  in 
that  "not  for  Venice."  Then  the  compliment  to 
Portia,  "  How  much  more  elder  art  thou  than  thy 
looks ! "  which  he  utters,  crouching  low,  with  a 
smiling,  even  leering,  admiration,  but  admiration 
given  for  what  is  on  his  own  side.  And  what 
follows  opens  a  most  natural  piece  of  business, 
arising  out  of  the  sort  of  confidential  intimacy 
which  he  would  establish  between  them — 


"Ay,  his  breast, 
So  says  the  bond; — Doth  it  not,  noble  judge? 
Nearest  his  heart,  those  are  the  very  words"; 


the  latter  words  pronounced  with  canine  ferocity, 
his  eyes  straining  over  the  other's  shoulders,  while 
he  points  with  his  knife — secure,  too,  that  the  other 
will  agree  with  him.  He  fancies  that  he  has 
brought  over  the  counsel  to  his  side.     And  it  may 


'THE   MERCHANT   OF  VENICE'  107 

be  added  that  this  knife  is  not  flourished  in  the 
butcher's  style  we  are  accustomed  to  ;  it  is  more 
delicately  treated,  as  though  something  surgical 
were  contemplated.  When  bidden  to  "  have  by 
some  surgeon,"  nothing  could  be  better  than  the 
sham  curiosity  with  which  he  affects  to  search  the 
bond  for  such  a  proviso,  letting  his  knife  travel 
down  the  lines,  and  the  tone  of  "  I  cannot  find  it," 
in  a  cold,  helpless  way,  as  if  he  had  looked  out  of 
courtesy  to  his  "young  judge,"  who  appeared  to 
be  on  his  side.  The  latter  at  last  declares  that 
there  is  no  alternative,  but  that  Antonio  must  yield 
his  bosom  to  the  knife  ;  then  the  Jew's  impatience 
seems  to  override  his  courtesies,  his  gloating  eyes 
never  turn  from  his  victim,  and  with  greedy  ferocity 
he  advances  suddenly  with  "  Come,  prepare ! " 
When,  however,  Portia  makes  her  "point"  about 
the  "drop  of  blood,"  he  drops  his  scales  with  a 
start ;  and,  Gratiano  taunting  him,  his  eyes  turn 
with  a  dazed  look  from  one  to  the  other  ;  he  says 
slowly,  "  Is — that — the — law?"  Checked  more  and 
more  in  his  reluctant  offers,  he  at  last  bursts  out 
with  a  demoniac  snarl — "  Why,  then,  the  devil  give 
him  good  of  it !  "  Finally  he  turns  to  leave,  totter- 
ing away  bewildered  and  utterly  broken.  As  may 
be  imagined,  this  new  Shylock  excited  a  vast  deal 
of  controversy.  The  "  old  school  "  was  scornful ; 
and  here  again  it  would  have  been  worth  hearing 
the  worthy  Jack  Ryder — whom  we  still  must  take 
to  be  the  type  of  the  good  old  past — on  the 
subject. 

Nothing  was  more  remarkable  than  the  general 


108  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

effect  of  this  fine  and  thoughtful  representation  upon 
the  public.  It  was  a  distinct  education,  too,  and  set 
every  one  discussing  and  reading.  Admittedly  one 
result  was  the  great  increase  in  the  sale  of  editions 
of  Shakespeare's  works  ;  and  the  ephemeral  litera- 
ture engendered  in  the  shape  of  articles,  criticisms, 
and  illustrations  of  all  kinds  was  truly  extraordinary. 
Here  again  was  heard  the  harsh  note  of  the  jealous 
and  the  envious.  But  there  was  plenty  of  fair  and 
honest  dissent  as  to  the  interpretation  of  the  play, 
with  some  reasonably  argued  protests  against  the 
over-abundant   decoration.  ^ 

The  hundredth  night  of  the  run  of  this  pro- 
digiously successful  revival  was  celebrated  in 
hospitable  fashion  by  a  supper,  to  which  all  that 
was  artistic,  literary,  and  fashionable — tout  Londres 
in  short — was  bidden.  The  night  was  Saturday, 
February  14,  1880,  the  hour  half-past  eleven. 
As  soon  as  the  piece  was  terminated  a  panto- 
mimic change  was  accomplished.     In  an  incredibly 

^  As  I  write,  there  is  being  performed  a  very  meritorious 
and  interesting  revival  of  the  play,  by  Mr.  Bourchier,  at  the 
Garrick  Theatre.  It  is  a  thoughtful,  and  even  sufficient, 
rendering.  But  it  must  be  said,  there  is  a  wide  gulf  between 
it  and  Irving's  version.  The  Bourchier  representation  is 
practical  and  prosaic.  Irving's  was  full  of  poetical  suggestion  : 
of  a  sort  of  pulsating  feeling  which  stirred  the  spectators. 
Improving  on  the  hint  given  by  Irving,  of  Shylock  being  shown 
returning  to  his  house  after  the  flight  of  his  daughter,  Mr. 
Bourchier  "works  it  up  "—pauses  before  his  door,  knocks, 
and  knocks  again.  After  all,  we  had  seen  his  daughter  carried 
off  by  her  young  man,  which  disposed  of  the  business.  As  we 
depart  further  from  the  date  of  Irving's  death  we  shall  come 
to  recognise  his  merits. 


'THE  MERCHANT  OF  VENICE'  109 

short  space  of  time — some  forty  minutes — an 
enormous  marquee,  striped  red  and  white,  that 
enclosed  the  whole  of  the  stage,  was  set  up  ;  the 
tables  were  arranged  and  spread  with  "all  the 
luxuries  of  the  season  "  with  magic  rapidity.  An 
enjoyable  night  followed.  The  host's  health  was 
given  by  that  accomplished  man,  and  man  of 
elegant  tastes,  Lord  Houghton,  in  what  was  thought 
a  curiously  mal  ct propos  speech.  After  conventional 
eulogiums,  he  could  not  resist  some  half-sarcastic 
remarks  as  to  "this  new  method  of  adorninof 
Shakespeare."  He  condemned  the  system  of  long 
"runs,"  which  he  contrasted  with  that  of  his  youth, 
when  pieces  were  given  not  oftener  than  once  or 
twice  in  the  week.  He  then  praised  the  improve- 
ment in  the  manners  of  the  profession,  "so  that  the 
tradition  of  good  breeding  and  high  conduct  was  not 
confined  to  special  families  like  the  Kembles,  or  to 
special  individuals  like  Mr.  Irving  himself,  but  was 
spread  over  the  profession,  so  that  families  of  condi- 
tion were  ready  to  allow  their  children  to  go  on  the 
stage.  We  put  our  sons  and  daughters  into  it."  I 
recall  now  the  genuine  indignation  and  roughly- 
expressed  sentiments  of  some  leading  performers 
and  critics  who  were  sitting  near  me  at  this  very 
awkward  compliment.  He  then  proceeded  to  speak 
of  the  new  impersonation,  describing  how  he  had 
seen  a  Shylock,  formerly  considered  a  ferocious 
monster,  but  who  had,  under  their  host's  treatment, 
become  a  "gentleman  of  the  Jewish  persuasion,  in 
voice  very  like  a  Rothschild,  afflicted  with  a  stupid 
servant    and    wilful    and    pernicious    daughter,    to 


no  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

be  eventually  foiled  by  a  very  charming  woman. 
But  there  was  one  character  Mr.  Irvine  would 
never  pervert  or  misrepresent,  and  that  was  his 
own,"  &c. 

Never  was  the  power  and  good-humour — the  bon- 
ho77iie — of  the  manager  more  happily  displayed  than 
in  his  reply.  As  was  said  at  the  time,  it  showed  him 
in  quite  a  new  light.  Taken  wholly  unawares — 
for  whatever  preparation  he  might  have  made  was, 
he  said,  "  rendered  useless  by  the  unexpected  tone 
of  Lord  Houghton's  remarks  " — he  was  thrown  on 
his  impromptu  resources,  and  proved  that  he 
really  possessed  what  is  called  debating  power. 
He  spoke  without  hesitation,  and  with  much  good 
sense  and  playful  humour  put  aside  these  blended 
compliments  and  sarcasms. 

Some  time  before  the  manager,  who  was  on 
friendly  terms  with  the  gifted  Helen  Faucit,  deter- 
mined to  revive  a  piece  in  which  she  had  once  made 
a  deep  impression,  viz.,  '  King  Rene's  Daughter.' 
This  poem,  translated  by  her  husband,  set  out  the 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  a  young  girl  in  the  con- 
trasted conditions  of  blindness  and  of  sight  recovered. 
With  a  natural  enthusiasm  for  his  art,  Irving  per- 
suaded the  actress,  who  had  long  since  withdrawn 
from  the  stage,  to  emerge  from  her  retirement  and 
play  her  old  character  "for  one  night  only."  This 
news  really  stirred  the  hearts  of  old  playgoers,  who 
recalled  this  actress  in  her  old  days  of  enchantment, 
when  she  was  in  her  prime,  truly  classical  and 
elegant  in  every  pose,  playing  the  pathetic  Anti- 
gone.     But,   alas !    for    the   old   Antigone    dreams ; 


lOLANTHE  111 

we  could  have  wished  that  we  had  stayed  away ! 
The  actress's  devices  seemed  to  have  hung  too  long 
a  "rusty  mail,  and  seemed  quite  out  of  fashion." 
Irving  did  all  he  could,  in  an  almost  chivalrous 
style,  and  it  was  certainly  a  kindly  act  of  admiration 
and  enthusiasm  for  his  art  to  think  of  such  a 
revival.  Such  homage  deserved  at  least  tolerance 
or  recosi'nition. 

Miss  Terry  herself  had  always  fancied  the  charac- 
ter of  lolanthe,  and  it  was  now  proposed  to  give  the 
play  as  an  after-piece  to  '  The  Merchant  of  Venice,' 
a  substantial  meal  for  one  night.  Our  heroine  made 
a  tender,  natural,  and  highly  emotional  character  of 
it.  A  new  version  or  adaptation  from  the  Danish 
had  been  made,  for  obvious  reasons,  by  the  trusty 
Wills  :  the  piece  was  set  off  by  one  really  lovely 
scene,  which  represented  the  heart  of  some  deep 
grove,  that  seemed  almost  inaccessible  to  us,  weird 
and  jungle-like.  A  golden,  gorgeous  light  played 
on  the  trees  capriciously  ;  there  was  a  rich  tangle  of 
huge  tropical  flowers  ;  while  behind,  the  tall,  bare 
trunks  of  trees  were  ranged  close  together  like 
sentinels.  Golden  doors  opened  with  a  musical 
chime,  or  clang  ;  strange,  weird  music,  as  of  seolian 
harps,  floated  up  now  and  again.  With  this  back- 
ground, knightly  figures  of  the  Arthurian  pattern 
and  ethereal  maidens  were  seen  to  float  before  us. 
Miss  Terry's  conception  of  the  maid  was  not  Miss 
Faucit's,  which  was  that  of  a  placid  rather  cold 
and  elegant  being.  She  cast  over  the  character 
a  rapture,  as  though  she  were  all  love  and 
impulse,     with     an    inexpressible    tenderness     and 


112  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

devotional  trust,  as  when  she  exclaimed,  "  I  ^^ 
to  find  the  light ! "  This  sort  of  rapture  also 
tinned  the  hero's  character,  and  the  audience 
were  lifted  into  a  region  where  emotion  reigned 
supreme. 


CHAPTER    VIII 

1880 

'the  CORSICAN  brothers'  and  '  THE  CUP  ' 

WITH  his  usual  tact  the  manager  had  deter- 
mined on  a  change  of  entertainment  which 
should  offer  a  marked  contrast  to  the  classical 
success  just  obtained,  and  was  now  meditating  a 
revival  of  the  once  popular  romantic  drama,  '  The 
Corsican  Brothers,'  with  all  its  spectral  effects — 
certainly  one  of  the  best  of  many  admirably-con- 
structed and  effective  French  pieces.  To  such  a 
■group  belong  the  absorbing  'Two  Orphans,'  'Thirty 
Years  of  a  Gambler's  Life,'  '  Victorine,'  and  others. 
'  The  Lady  of  Lyons '  is  the  only  one  of  our 
ripertoire  that  can  be  put  beside  these  ingenious 
efforts.  Some  thirty  years  ago,  when  it  was  pro- 
duced at  the  Princess's,  the  horny-voiced  Charles 
Kean  performing  the  Brothers,  it  took  hold  of  the 
public  with  a  sort  of  fascination — the  strange  music 
of  Stopel,  and  the  mysterious,  gliding  progress  of 
the  murdered  brother  across  the  stao^e,  enthrallingf 
every  one.  There  was  a  story  at  the  time  that  the 
acts,  sent  over  from   Paris  in   separate  parcels  for 

9  113 


114  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

translation,  had  become  transposed,  the  second  act 
being  placed  first,  and  this  order  was  retained  in  the 
representation  with  some  benefit  to  the  play.  This 
may  be  a  legend  ;  but  the  fact  is  that  either  act 
could  come  first  without  making  any  serious 
difference. 

Magnificent  and  attractive  as  was  the  mounting 
of  this  piece  at  this  time,  it  was  far  excelled  in 
sumptuousness  on  its  later  revival  in  1891.  The 
experience  of  ten  years  had  made  the  manager  feel 
a  certainty  in  the  results  of  his  own  efforts  ;  his 
touch  had  become  sure  ;  the  beautiful  and  striking 
effects  were  developed  naturally,  without  that  undue 
emphasis  which  often  disturbs  the  onward  course  of 
a  piece.  Hence  that  fine,  unobtrusive  harmony 
which  reigned  in  all  his  pictures.  Even  now  the 
wonderful  opera  house,  the  forest  glades,  the  salon 
in  Paris,  all  rise  before  us.  Nor  was  there  less  art 
shown  in  the  subdued  tone  of  mystery  which  it  was 
contrived  to  throw  over  the  scenes.  The  scenes 
themselves,  even  those  of  reckless  gaiety,  seemed  to 
strike  this  "  awesome  "  note.  Much  as  the  familiar 
"  ghost  tune  "  was  welcomed,  more  mysterious,  as 
it  always  seemed  to  me,  was  the  creepy  variation 
on  the  original  theme,  devised  by  Mr.  H.  Clarke, 
and  which  stole  in  mournfully  at  some  impending 
crisis  all  through  the  piece.  There  was  some  criti- 
cism on  the  D'Orsay  costumes  of  the  piece  ;  the 
short-waisted  waistcoats,  the  broad-brimmed  opera 
hats,  and  the  rich  cravats — Joinvilles,  as  they  used 
to  be  called.  These  lent  a  piquancy,  and  yet  were 
not  too  remote  from  the  present  time.     Terriss,  it 


'THE   CORSICAN  BROTHERS'  115 

must  be  said,  was  lacking  in  elegance  and  "  dis- 
tinction." There  always  lingers  in  the  memory  the 
imao-e  of  the  smooth  orrace  and  courtesies  of  Alfred 
Wigan,  who  really  made  a  dramatic  character  of  the 
part — sympathetic  and  exciting  interest.  It  is  in 
these  things  that  we  miss  the  style,  the  bearing 
which  is  itself  acting,  without  utterance  of  a  word, 
and  which  now  seems  to  be  a  lost  art.  One  result 
of  this  treatment,  as  Mr.  Clement  Scott  truly  pointed 
out,  was  the  shifting  of  sympathies.  "  Chateau- 
Renaud  was,  no  doubt,  a  villain,  but  he  was  one  of 
the  first  class,  and  with  magnetic  power  in  him.  He 
had  won  for  himself  a  high  place.  He  was  cold  as 
steel,  and  reserved.  For  him  to  deal  with  Louis 
was  child's  play.  And  yet  all  this  was  reversed  :  it 
was  Louis  that  dominated  the  situation  ;  no  one  felt 
the  least  apprehension  for  his  fate."  A  judicious 
criticism. 

Familiarity  has  now  somewhat  dulled  the  effect 
of  the  gliding  entrance  of  the  ghostly  Louis,  which 
at  first  seemed  almost  supernatural.  The  art  was 
in  making  the  figure  rise  as  it  advanced,  and  an 
ingenious  contrivance  was  devised  by  one  of  the 
stage  foremen.  It  was  a  curious  feeling  to  find  one- 
self in  the  cavernous  reg-ions  below  the  stao-e,  and 
see  the  manager  rush  down  and  hurriedly  place 
himself  on  the  trap  to  be  worked  slowly  upwards.  ^ 

'  Arthur  Matthison,  a  quaint,  clever  American,  who  had  written 
some  successful  dramas,  was  chosen  to  play  "  the  double  "  of  the 
leading  actor :  that  is,  after  passing  behind  the  "practicable"  tree, 
he  was  to  emerge,  taking  care  to  keep  his  back  to  the  audience. 
Unluckily  for  stage  effect,   no  known  art  will  help  "  to  dodge 


116  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

The  use  of  intense  light  has  favoured  the  intro- 
duction of  new  effects  in  the  shape  of  transparent 
scenery  ;  that  is,  of  a  scene  that  looks  like  any 
ordinary  one,  but  is  painted  on  a  thick  gauzy 
material.  Thus,  in  the  first  act,  the  back  of  the 
scene  in  the  Corsican  Palace  is  of  this  material, 
throuo^h  which  the  tableau  of  the  Paris  duel  is 
shown,  a  fierce  light  being  cast  upon  it.  In  the 
original  representation  the  whole  wall  descended 
and  revealed  the  scene.  The  upper  half  ascending, 
the  other  offers  something^  of  a  mao-ic-lantern  or 
phantasmagorian  air.  The  same  material  is  used  in 
the  dream  in  'The  Bells,'  when  the  spectral  trial  is 
seen  going  on,  made  mysterious  and  misty  by  the 
interposition  of  the  gauzes. 

In  the  duel  scene  one  of  the  swords  is  broken  by 
an  accident ;  the  other  combatant  breaks  his  across 
his  knee,  that  the  duel  may  proceed  "on  equal 
terms."  It  is  not,  of  course,  to  be  supposed  that  a 
sword  is  broken  every  night.  They  are  made  with 
a  slight  rivet  and  a  little  solder,  the  fitting  being 
done  every  morning,  so  that  the  pieces  are  easily 
parted.  But  few  had  noted  how  artfully  the 
performer  changed   his   weapon  ;   for    in    the  early 

Nature  "  in  such  points.  She  has  no  replicas  in  her  store  :  makes 
everything  distinct.  And  it  is  significant  of  the  strong  individua- 
lity which  belongs  to  the  whole  body  as  well  as  to  the  face,  that 
the  eye  will  at  once  note  the  difference  of  expression  in  the  back 
outline  of  the  figure,  arms,  &c.  I  believe  no  two  people  could  be 
found  so  alike  in  their  general  appearance  as  to  be  indistinguish- 
able— thus  illustrating  the  late  Mr.  Carlyle's  quaint  phrase  when 
speaking  of  some  one  whose  character  he  had  interpreted  un- 
favourably, ^^  I  knew  it  by  the  twist  of  the  hip  of  him." 


'THE   CORSICAN   BROTHERS'  117 

stages  of  the  duel  the  flourishings  and  passes  would 
have  soon  caused  the  fragments  to  separate.  It  is 
done  during  the  intervals  of  rest,  when  the  com- 
batants lean  as  on  the  seconds  to  rather  strength 
for  the  second  "round,"  and  one  gets  his  new 
weapon  from  behind  a  tree,  the  other  from  behind 
a  prostrate  log. 

But  it  is  in  the  next  act  that  the  series  of  elaborate 
set  scenes  succeeding  each  other  entails  the  most 
serious  difficulties,  only  to  be  overcome  in  one  way 
— viz.,  by  the  employment  of  an  enormous  number 
of  persons.  Few  modern  scenes  were  more  striking 
than  that  of  the  opera  house  lit  a  giorno,  with  its 
grand  chandelier  and  smaller  clusters  running  round. 
The  blaze  of  light  was  prodigious ;  for  this  some  five 
thousand  feet  of  gas-tubing  had  to  be  laid  down,  the 
floor  covered  with  snake-like  coils  of  indiarubber 
pipes,  and  the  whole  to  be  contrived  so  as  to  be  con- 
trolled from  a  single  centre-pipe.  There  were  rows 
of  boxes  with  crimson  curtains,  the  spectators  filling 
them — some  faces  being  painted  in,  others  being 
represented  by  living  persons.  Yet  nothing  could 
be  more  simple  than  the  elements  of  this  opera 
house.  From  the  audience  portion  one  would  fancy 
that  it  was  an  elaborately  built  and  costly  structure. 
It  was  nothing  but  two  light  screens  pierced  with 
openings,  but  most  artfully  arranged  and  coloured.^ 

'  This  was  followed  by  the  double  rooms  of  the  supper  party,  a 
very  striking  scene :  two  richly-furnished  rooms,  Aubusson  carpets, 
a  pianoforte,  nearly  twenty  chairs,  sofas,  tables,  clocks,  and  a 
supper-table  covered  with  delicacies,  champagne  bottles,  flowers, 
&c.     It  was  succeeded  almost  instantly  by  a  scene  occupying  the 


118  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

At  its  close,  down  came  the  rich  tableau  curtains, 
while  behind  them  descended  the  cloth  with  the 
representation  of  the  lobby  scene  in  the  opera 
house.  It  used  to  be  customary  for  the  manager's 
friends  to  put  on  a  mask  and  domino  and  mingle 
with  the  gay  throng  of  roysterers  in  the  opera 
house  scene,  or  to  take  a  place  in  one  of  the 
practicable  boxes  and  survey  the  whole — and  a 
curious  scene  it  was.  A  cosy  supper  in  the  Beef- 
steak-room, and  a  pleasant  catiserie  through  the 
small  hours,  concluded  a  delightful  and  rather 
oriorinal  form  of  a  night's  entertainment. 

As  we  call  up  the  memories  of  the  Lyceum 
performances,  with  what  a  series  of  picturesque 
visions  is  our  memory  furnished — poetical  Shake- 
spearian pageants  ;  romantic  melodramatic  stories, 
set  forth  with  elegance  and  vraisemb lance ;  plays  of 
pathetic  or  domestic  interest ;  exhilarating  comedies  ; 

same  space — that  of  the  forest,  requiring  the  minutest  treatment, 
innumerable  properties,  real  trees,  &c.  This  is  how  it  is  con- 
trived. The  instant  the  tableau  curtains  are  dropped,  the 
auxiliaries  rush  on  the  scene  ;  away  to  right  and  left  fly  the 
portions  of  the  Parisian  drawing-room  :  tables,  chairs,  piano,  sofa, 
vanish  in  an  instant.  Men  appear  carrying  tall  saplings  fixed  in 
stands  ;  one  lays  down  the  strip  of  frozen  pond,  another  the  pros- 
trate trunk  of  a  tree — every  one  from  practice  knowing  the  exact 
place  of  the  particular  article  he  is  appointed  to  carry.  Others 
arrive  with  bags  of  sand,  which  are  emptied  and  strewn  on  the 
floor ;  the  circular  tree  is  in  position,  the  limelights  ready.  The 
transformation  was  effected,  in  what  space  of  time  will  the  reader 
imagine  ?  In  thirty-eight  seconds^  by  the  stage-manager's  watch  ! 
By  that  time  the  tableau  had  been  drawn  aside,  and  Chateau- 
Renaud  and  his  friend  Maugiron  were  descending  into  the  gloomy 
glade  after  their  carriage  had  broken  down. 

A  curious  little  controversy  arose  as  to  the  authorship  of  the 


'THE   CORSICAN   BROTHERS'  119 

with  highly  dramatic  poems,  written  by  the  late 
Poet  Laureate,  Wills,  and  others.  Indeed,  who 
could  have  conceived  on  the  opening  night  of  the 
Lyceum  management,  when  '  Hamlet '  was  to  be 
brought  out,  that  this  was  to  be  the  first  of  a  regular 
series — viz.,  nine  gorgeous  and  ambitious  presenta- 
tions of  Shakespearian  pieces,  each  involving  almost 
stupendous  efforts,  intellectual  and  physical,  that  we 
were  to  see  in  succession  '  The  Merchant  of  Venice,' 
'  Romeo  and  Juliet,'  '  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,' 
'Othello,'  'Twelfth  Night,'  'Macbeth,'  'Henry 
VHL,'  and  'King  Lear'?  What  a  gift  to  the 
public  in  the  shape  of  the  attendant  associations,  in 
the  glimpses  of  Italian  and  other  scenery,  the  rich 
costumes,  the  archaeology ! 

The  late  Laureate,  not  contented  with  the  popu- 
larity which  his  poems  have  won,  always  "hankered" 
after  the  entrancing  publicity  and  excitement  of  the 

Ghost  Melody.  It  was  claimed  for  Mr.  Stopel,  who  was  acting  as 
chef  dorchestre  at  the  Theatre  Historique  when  the  play  was 
originally  produced.  Another  claim  was  made  for  Varney,  author 
of  the  stirring  hymn,  Mourir  pour  la  patrie.  Oddly  enough, 
Stopel,  who  was  then  at  the  Adelphi,  could  not  be  got  "to  say 
yes  or  no."  "He  was  amused,"  he  said,  "at  the  importance 
attached  to  such  a  trifle,  and  could,  if  he  chose,  set  the  matter  at 
rest  in  a  few  words."  But  he  did  not.  But  there  used  to  be  a 
pianoforte  piece  by  one  Rosellen — a  Reverie — which  certainly 
began  and  went  on  for  many  bars  in  the  same  fashion.  However, 
a  copy  of  the  music  of  the  Ghost  Melody,  arranged  for  the  piano- 
forte, and  published  in  1852,  was  unearthed,  which  bore  on  its 
title  the  words :  "  Composed  by  M.  Varney,  of  the  Theatre 
Historique  :  arranged  by  R.  Stopel,  director  of  the  music  at  the 
Princess's  Theatre."  This  settled  the  point,  and  it  explained  the 
ambiguous  declaration  of  the  arranger.  We  must  assuredly  give 
the  credit  of  this  air  to  Varney. 


120  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

theatre.^  He  made  many  an  attempt  in  this  direction, 
and  his  Hst  of  performed  dramas  is  a  fairly  long  one  ; 
few,  however,  have  enjoyed  any  signal  success,  save 
perhaps  the  last,  recently  produced  in  the  United 
States.  To  one  indeed — witness  the  unlucky  '  Pro- 
mise of  May' — the  regular  "first-nighter,"  as  he  is 
called,  was  indebted  for  an  amusing  and  enjoyable 
evening's  entertainment.^  It  must  be  conceded, 
however,  that  there  is  a  dramatic  tone  or  flavour 
about  his  pieces  which  is  attractive,  in  spite  of  all 
deficiencies,  and  any  one  who  could  not  see  a  touch- 
ing grace  and  elegance  in  such  a  piece  as  '  The 
Falcon,'  weak  as  it  is  in  treatment,  must  have  little 
taste  or  feeling.  So  with  '  Queen  Mary,'  which  had 
a  certain  grim  power,  and,  above  all,  local  colour. 
His  own  striking  success  in  the  character  of  King 
Philip  was  an  agreeable  recollection  for  Irving  ;  and 
he  now  lent  himself  with  much  enthusiasm  to  a  pro- 
ject for  bringing  forward  a  new  drama  by  the  poet. 
The  preparations  for  this  elegant  play  were  of  the 

^  Tennyson  s  dramatic  "baggage"  is  really  important,  for  a  poet. 
He  can  count  no  less  than  six  pieces. 

^  This  was  one  of  the  most  hilarious,  enjoyable  nights  that  it 
was  possible  to  conceive.  The  richest  Palais  Royal  farce  could 
not  compare.  I  "  assisted."  It  was  a  great  event.  The  great 
Gladstone  came  specially  to  see  his  friend's  triumph,  and  "  duly 
emboxed,"  glared  portentously  round  the  house.  The  hero  of 
the  piece  was  a  flagrant  Socialist,  uttering  periodically  the 
most  shocking  doctrines,  on  which  the  gallery  became  by  and 
by  inflamed,  uttering  cries  and  booings.  The  point  of  the  jest, 
however,  was  that  the  bard  intended  to  hold  up  the  character  to 
odium;  but  unluckily  the  crowd  took  this  to  be  the  author's  repel- 
lent creed,  and  so  the  tumult  increased.  The  gloom  gathered  on 
the  brow  of  the  great  politician,  who  yet  seemed  persuaded  that 
all  would  be  well.     But  it  went  from  bad  to  worse. 


'THE   CUP'  121 

most  lavish  and  unstinted  kind.  Nothing,  literally, 
was  spared  in  the  outlay  of  either  study,  thought, 
money,  or  art.  The  manager  usually  followed  an 
eclectic  system,  choosing  his  aides  and  assistants  as 
they  appear  suited  to  each  play.  Thus  an  architect 
of  literary  tastes,  Mr.  Knowles,  was  called  in  to 
design  a  regular  Temple-interior,  which  was  the 
principal  scene,  and  which  was  to  be  treated,  secun- 
dimt  artem,  in  professional  style.  And  so  it  rose  with 
all  its  pillars  and  pediments  "behind  the  scenes." 

"  No  ponderous  axes  rung ; 
Like  some  tall  palm  the  mystic  fabric  sprung." 

The  name  of  the  new  piece  was  *  The  Cup,'  a  fine 
"  barbarian  "  story,  strangely  interesting  and  even 
fascinating.  It  was,  of  course,  diffuse  and  expanded 
to  inordinate  length.  And  there  were  many  pleasant 
stories  afloat  of  the  poet  contending  "for  the  dear  life " 
for  his  "ewe  lambs,"  and  for  every  line  of  his  poetry ; 
the  manager,  in  his  pleasant,  placid  way — but  firm 
withal — quietly  insisting  on  the  most  abundant  com- 
pression. 

The  night  of  performance  was  that  of  January  3, 
1 88 1,  when  the  beautiful  play-poem  was  at  last  set 
before  the  audience  in  all  its  attraction.  It  still 
lingers  in  the  memory  with  an  inexpressible  charm, 
breathing  poetry  and  romance.  We  shall  ever  look 
back  fondly  to  '  The  Cup,'  with  its  exquisite  setting, 
and  lament  heartily  that  others  did  not  so  cordially 
or  enthusiastically  appreciate  it.  There  was  some- 
thing so  fascinating  about  the  play,  something  so 
refining,  and  also  so  "  fantastical,"  that  though  lack- 


122  SIR  HENRY   IRVING 

ing  the  strong  thews  and  muscles  of  a  regular  drama, 
it  satisfied  eye  and  ear.  As  it  floated  before  us,  in 
airy,  evanescent  fashion,  it  seemed  to  recall  the  lines 
that  wind  up  the  most  charming  of  Shakespeare's 
plays,  when  the  revels  now  had  ended,  and  all  had 
"  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air."  The  noble  Temple, 
with  its  rich  mouldings,  was  destined  too  soon,  alas ! 
to  pass  away  into  the  same  dark  grave  of  so  many 
noble  creations.  On  the  two  chief  characters,  both 
full  of  tragic  power,  the  eye  rested  with  an  almost 
entrancing  interest.  Never  did  Irving  act  better — 
that  is,  never  did  he  convey  by  his  look  and  tones 
the  evidence  of  the  barbaric  conception  within  him. 
There  was  a  fine,  pagan,  reckless  savagery,  yet 
controlled  by  dignity.  Miss  Terry's  Camma  returns 
to  the  memory  like  the  fragment  of  a  dream.  The 
delightful  creation  was  brought  before  us  more  by  her 
sympathetic  bearing  and  motion  than  by  speech;  but 
what  music  was  there  in  those  tones,  pitched  in  low, 
melodious  key,  interpreting  the  music  of  Tennyson  ! 
Her  face  and  outline  of  figure,  refined  and  poetical 
as  they  were,  became  more  refined  still  in  associa- 
tion with  the  lovely  scenery  and  its  surroundings. 
She  seemed  to  belong  to  the  mythological  past. 
There  was  a  strange  calm  towards  the  close,  and  all 
through  no  undue  theatrical  emphasis  or  faulty  tone 
of  recitation  to  disturb  that  dreamy  sense. 

Mr.  Gladstone  always  affected  a  particular  interest 
in  our  actor — even  an  enthusiasm  ;  and  used  to  sit 
in  the  wings,  his  hand  to  his  ear  listening  to  the 
Tennyson  and  other  plays.  This  must  have  been 
an  amiable  aff"ectation,  for  what  he  saw  could  not 


THE      LYCEUM       LION. 
"A  SCORE  OF  Dogs  onawko  at  hi>!  anklks;  at  last  he  felt  the  tuol-blc  ok  his 

FEET  — i'UT    FORTH    ONE    PAW,    SLEW    FOUll    AND    KNEW    IT    XOT." — "THE    CUP." 


[To  faci-  pdije  122, 


♦THE   CUP'  123 

have  been  after  his  taste.  Indeed,  none  of  "  the  old 
school,"  I  always  noted,  could  understand  or  tolerate 
Irving.  When  he  went  to  Windsor  to  play  '  Becket' 
before  her  late  Majesty,  the  performance  was  not 
found  suited  to  her  old-fashioned  taste. 

It  was  not  a  little  disheartening  to  think  that  this 
"entire,  perfect  chrysolite"  was  received  with  a 
rather  cold  admiration,  or  at  least  not  with  the 
enthusiasm  it  richly  merited.  The  apathetic  crowd 
scarcely  appreciated  the  too  delicate  fare  set  before 
It,  we  scarcely  know  why.  I  suppose  that  it  had 
not  sufficient  robustness,  as  it  is  called.  After  some 
weeks  the  manager  found  it  needful  to  supplement 
the  attraction  of  the  play  by  the  revived  '  Corsican 
Brothers.'     It  may  be  conceived  what  a  strain  ^  was 

^  One  agreeable  night  which  was  spent  behind  the  scenes 
enabled  me  to  study  the  admirable  arrangements  by  which  this 
complicated  operation  was  carried  out  with  smoothness  and  success. 

"  No  sooner  has  the  drop-scene  fallen — and  a  person  always 
'  stood  by '  to  see  that  the  huge  roller  was  kept  clear  of  careless 
spectators — than  a  busy  scene  set  in.  Instantly  men  emerge 
from  every  side;  the  hills  and  banks,  the  slopes  leading  down  the 
hill,  the  steps  and  massive  pedestal  that  flank  the  entrance  to  the 
Temple  on  the  right,  are  lifted  up  and  disappear  gradually  ;  the 
distant  landscape  mounts  slowly  into  the  air ;  the  long  rows  of 
jets  are  unfastened  and  carried  off — in  three  or  four  minutes  the 
whole  is  clear.  At  this  moment  are  seen  slowly  coming  down 
from  aloft  what  appear  to  be  three  long  heavy  frames  or  beams — 
two  in  the  direction  of  the  length,  one  across  the  whole  breadth 
of  the  stage.  These  make  a  sort  of  enclosure  open  on  one  side, 
and  form  the  pediment  or  upper  portion  of  the  Temple  meant  to 
rest  on  the  pillars.  Soon  busy  hands  have  joined  these  three 
great  joists  by  bolts  and  fastenings  ;  the  signal  is  given,  and  it 
begins  to  ascend  again.  Meanwhile,  others  have  been  bringing 
out  from  the  'scene  dock'  pillars  with  their  bases,  and  arranging 
them ;  and  as  the  great  beams  move  slowly  up  to  their  place,  they 


124  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

here  on  the  resources,  not  merely  of  the  actors,  but 
even  of  all  who  were  concerned  with  the  scenery 
and  properties.  Two  important  pieces  had  to  be 
treated  and  manipulated  within  an  incredibly  short 
space  of  time. 

hoist  with  them  the  columns,  attached  by  ropes  which  pass 
through.  By  this  time  all  the  columns  are  swinging  in  the  air ; 
another  moment  and  they  have  dropped  into  their  places  in  the 
pedestal.  The  place  of  each  pedestal  is  marked  on  the  floor.  In 
a  few  moments  everything  is  fitted  and  falls  into  its  place,  with 
an  almost  martial  exactness.  Then  are  seen  slowly  descending 
the  other  portions  of  the  roof,  sky-borders,  &c.,  all  falling  into 
their  places  quietly  and  with  a  sort  of  mysterious  growth.  We 
have  glimpses  in  the  galleries  aloft  of  men  hauling  at  ropes  and 
pulleys,  or  turning  '  drums.'  Finally  the  whole  is  set  and  com- 
plete, and  men  bear  in  the  altars  and  steps  and  the  enormous  idol 
at  the  back — over  twenty  feet  high.  It  is  worth  while  looking 
close  even  at  the  sound  and  effective  modelling  of  the  raised 
classic  figures  that  encircle  the  lower  portions  of  each  column,  all 
in  good  relief,  such  as  we  see  in  Mr.  Alma  Tadema's  pictures. 
The  variety  and  richness  of  these  are  surprising,  and  they  fairly 
bear  a  close  inspection.  They  are  coloured,  too,  with  that  ivory 
tone  which  the  older  marbles  acquire.  All  this  was  wrought  in 
the  property-room,  and  worked  in  clay ;  the  figures  were  then 
plastered  over  with  paper,  or  papier-mache^  a  material  invaluable 
to  the  scenic  artist  as  furnishing  relief  and  detail  so  as  to  catch 
the  lights  and  shadows,  having  the  merit  of  being  exceedingly 
light  and  portable,  of  bearing  rough  usage  and  knocking  about, 
which  carved  wood  would  not.  The  idol,  now  looming  solemnly 
at  the  back,  is  formed  of  the  same  material.  It  is  curious  to  find 
that  the  pillars  and  their  capitals  are  all  constructed  literally  in 
the  Unes  of  perspective,  as  such  would  be  drawn  on  a  flat  surface ; 
they  diminish  in  height  as  they  are  farther  off,  and  their  top  and 
bottom  surfaces  are  sloped  in  a  converging  line.  Thus  the  "  build- 
ing "  stood  revealed  and  complete,  and  round  the  pillars  ran  an 
open  space,  enclosed  as  it  were  by  the  walls.  What  with  the 
gloom  and  the  general  mystery,  the  whole  would  pass,  even  to 
those  standing  by,  as  a  very  imposing  structure." 


CHAPTER   IX 
1881 

*  OTHELLO  '    AND    *  THE    TWO    ROSES  '    REVIVED 

AT  this  time  there  came  to  London  an  American 
actor  whose  reputation  in  his  own  country  was 
very  high,  and  for  whom  it  was  claimed  that,  as  a 
legitimate  performer,  he  was  superior  to  all  rivals. 
This  was  Edwin  Booth.  He  was  welcomed  with 
cordiality  and  much  curiosity,  and  by  none  was 
he  received  with  such  hearty  goodwill  as  by  the 
manager  of  the  Lyceum.  Unluckily,  he  had  made 
his  arrangements  injudiciously,  having  agreed  to 
appear  under  a  management  which  was  quite 
unsuited  to  the  proper  exhibition  of  his  gifts.  The 
Princess's  Theatre  was  a  house  devoted  to  melo- 
drama of  the  commoner  type,  and  was  directed  by 
commercial  rather  than  by  aesthetic  principles.  In 
fact,  we  had  seen  horses  on  this  stage !  This 
mistake  proved  fatal.  The  manager,  finding  that 
there  was  no  likelihood  of  success,  was  not  inclined 
to  waste  his  resources,  and,  no  doubt  to  the  anguish 
of  the  actor,  brought  out  the  pieces  in  a  meagre. 


126  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

starved  fashion  that  was  fatal  to  the  American's 
chances. 

In  this  disastrous  state  of  things  the  manager  of 
the  Lyceum  nobly  came  to  the  rescue  of  his  confrere 
with  a  suggestion  as  delicate  as  it  was  generous. 
He  offered  him  his  theatre,  with  its  splendid 
resources  and  traditions,  his  company,  and — him- 
self. He  proposed  that  a  Shakespearian  play 
should  be  produced  on  the  customary  scale  of 
magnificence,  and  that  he  and  Booth  should  fill  the 
leading  characters.  This  handsome  offer  was,  of 
course,  accepted  with  gratitude,  and  '  Othello  '  was 
selected  as  the  play. 

The  arrangements  for  this  "  Booth  season,"  as  it 
might  be  termed,  were  of  an  unusual  and  certainly 
laborious  kind.  The  manager,  however,  was  never 
disposed  to  spare  himself  The  programme  began 
on  May  2,  1881,  when  Booth  was  to  appear  as 
Othello,  performing  on  Monday,  Wednesday,  and 
Friday,  the  manager  playing  lago.  On  the  other 
nights  of  the  week,  '  The  Cup,'  with  the  lively 
'  Belle's  Stratagem,'  was  to  be  performed.  In  the 
following  week  there  was  the  same  arrangement, 
except  that  Irving  took  the  part  of  Othello.^ 

'  One  morning,  during  the  preparations,  I  found  myself  in  the 
painting-room,  where  Mr.  Craven  was  busy  with  one  of  the 
interesting  Httle  models  of  scenery  by  which  the  effect  can  be 
tested.  The  reader  may  not  know  that  the  scenic  artist  has  his 
model  theatre,  a  foot  or  so  wide,  but  made  "  to  scale."  He  has 
also  ground-plans  of  the  stage,  showing  all  the  exits,  &c.,  also 
done  to  scale.  By  these  aids  the  most  complicated  scenes  can  be 
designed  and  tried.  I  was  struck  with  the  careful,  conscientious 
fashion  in  which  the  manager  discussed  a  little  Venetian  scene, 


RIVAL       HAM  LETS. 

liux  (/111  Eiifj;liKli  Ihnnlet) — ^^'no  auf.  You? 

Ctox  (An  American   Hamlet) — Ik  it  comes  to  that.  Who  ari:    Yoh  ? 


[To  fifcr  jiiKjc  127. 


'OTHELLO'  REVIVED  127 

The  night  of  May  2  was  an  exciting  one,  even  in 
the  Hst  of  exciting  Lyceum  nights.  The  Americans 
were,  of  course,  there  in  tremendous  force.  Irving 
— Booth — Ellen  Terry  :  this  surely  formed,  in 
theatrical  phrase,  a  galaxy  of  talent,  and  the  cyno- 
sure of  a  crowded,  brilliant  audience.  It  was, 
indeed,  a  pleasing  performance — intellectual,  highly- 
coloured,  and  treated  in  the  romantic  fashion  which 
the  age  seems  to  demand.  The  old  days  of  lusty- 
throated,  welkin-splitting  declamation,  emphasised 
with  strides  and  lunges,  are  done  with. 

Of  Irving's  lago  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  too 
much.  There  have  been  always  the  two  extremes  : 
one  portraying  the  Ancient  as  a  malignant,  scowl- 
ing, crafty  villain,  doing  much  work  with  his  eyes  ; 
the  other  as  a  kind  of  dapper,  sarcastic,  sneering 
personage,  much  after  the  model  of  Mephistopheles, 
this  tone  being  emphasised  by  an  airy,  fashionable 
dress,  as  though  he  were  some  cynical  Venetian 
"about  town."  In  Irving  was  seen  the  man  of 
power  and  capability.  There  was  breadth  of  treat- 
ment— the  character  was  coherent  throughout.  The 
keynote  was  found  in  his  humour.  In  "I  hate 
the  Moor ! " — one  of  those  secret,  jealous,  mor- 
bid   broodings    which    belong    to    human    nature, 

rudely  painted  in  water-colours,  which  had  just  been  set.  He 
saw  it  in  connection  with  the  entrances  of  the  actors,  and  was  not 
quite  satisfied  with  the  arrangement.  He  tried  various  devices, 
and  proposed  a  gateway ;  but  this  entailed  making  a  new  design, 
all  which  he  suggested  to  the  painter  with  pleasant  persuasion  and 
kindly,  apologetic  courtesy,  but  was,  as  always,  firm  in  his  purpose. 
If  a  second  experiment  did  not  satisfy,  it  must  be  tried  again. 
Suaviter  in  modo,  &c.,  was  certainly  his  maxim. 


128  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

and    an    admirably  delivered  soliloquy — he   strives 
to    find  some   reasonable  excuse    for    this   sugges- 
tion ;  '  He  has  done  my  office  '  is  merely  accepted 
as   a   suitable    pretext.     The    mode    in  which   this 
was,    as    it    were,  chased  through    the    turnings  of 
his  soul ;  the  anxious  tone  of  search,   "  I  know  not 
if 't  be  true "  ;  the   covering  up  his   face,   and   the 
motion  by  which  he  let  his  hands  glide,  revealing 
an   elated   expression  at  having  found  what  would 
"  serve,"  was  a  perfect  exhibition  of  the  processes  of 
thought.     All  this  was  set  off  by  a  dress  of  singular 
appropriateness   and  richness  :  a  crimson  and  gold 
jerkin,  with  a  mantle  of  dull  or  faded  green,  some- 
times alternated  with  a  short  cloak  and  a  red  mantle 
worn  on    one    arm.     This    striking    impersonation 
deeply  impressed  the  judicious  and  reflecting — from 
its    extraordinary    cleverness.       It    was    so    intelli- 
gent :    the   meaning  of   passages   was   so  distinctly 
brought    out.       Yet,    strange    to    say,    he     never 
thought  of  it  again  or  reverted  to  it.     This    was 
really   curious,   as   he   thus    lost   what    might   have 
proved    a   great   success   and    one    of   his    striking 
characters.      But  then — the  Manager    Actor  inter- 
poses — what  of  the  Othello  ? 

In  Booth's  Othello  there  appeared  to  be  a  lack  of 
vigour,  and  the  elocutionist  was  too  much  present. 
There  was  a  system  of  "points."  Some  critics  were 
rude  enough  to  say  that  "  his  make-up  suggested  at 
times  an  Indian  juggler,  while  about  the  head  he 
seemed  a  low-cast  Bengali."  He  was  never  the 
"noble  Moor."  "  He  had  a  tendency  at  times  to 
gobble    like    a    turkey."      This   was    rather    hard 


'OTHELLO'   REVIVED  129 

measure.  But  in  the  scene  with  lago,  and,  above 
all,  in  the  scenes  with  Desdemona,  the  frantic  bursts 
of  jealousy,  the  command  of  varied  tones,  the  by- 
play, the  fierce  ordering  of  Emilia  and  his  wife — all 
this  was  of  a  higher  class,  and  stirred  us.  Miss 
Terry's  Desdemona  was  pathetic,  and  her  piteous 
pleadings  and  remonstrances  went  straight  to  the 
heart. 

At  the   next  performance   the  parts  were  inter- 
changed.    A  figure  arrayed  in  a  flowing  amber  robe 
over  a  purple  brocaded  gaberdine  ;  a  small,  snow- 
white  turbine  ;  a  face  dark,  yet  not  "  black  " — such 
was    Irving's  conception  of  Othello,  which,  indeed, 
answered  to  our  ideal  of  the  Moor.      His  tall  figure 
gave    him    advantage.       His  reading  of   the   part, 
again,  was  of  the  romantic,  passionate  kind,  and  he 
leant  more  on  the  tender  side  of  the  character  than 
on    the    ferocious    or    barbaric.       In    the    scene   of 
Desdemona's    death    or   murder,    there    was    now 
another  and  more  effective  arrangement  :   the   bed 
was  placed  in  the  centre  of  the  stage,  and  the  whole 
became  more   important  and  conspicuous.       When 
it  was  at  the  side,  as  in  the   Booth   arrangement, 
it  was  difficult  to  believe  in  the  continued  presence 
of  the    lady    after  her   death,    and    there    was   an 
awkwardness  in  the  efforts  to  keep  in  sight  of  the 
audience  during  the  struggle. 

Booth's  lago  had  been  seen  before,  and  v/as 
much  praised.  It  was  on  the  old  "  Mephistopheles  " 
lines.  The  dress,  indeed,  strangely  meagre  and 
old-fashioned,  scarcely  harmonised  with  the  rich 
costumes  about  him.     I  remember  Lord  Houghton, 

10 


130  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

on  his  return  from  the  United  States,  telling  me, 
on  my  asking  him  his  opinion,  that  "  Booth  was 
a  really  fine  actor — quite  so."  But  it  struck  me 
and  many  others  that  he  was  of  an  old  fashion, 
and  about  twenty  years  behind  Irving. 

The  whole  of  this  transaction,  as  I  have  said,  did 
honour  to  the  English  actor.  Nothing  more  cordi- 
ally hospitable  could  have  been  imagined.  But  at 
the  time  there  was  a  "  Booth  party,"  who  gave  out 
that  their  favourite  had  not  had  fair  play,  and  that 
on  a  stage  of  his  own  his  superiority  to  all  rivals 
would  be  apparent.  These  and  other  insinua- 
tions were  scattered  about  freely.  Irving  might 
have  passed  them  by  with  indifference.  It  was 
certainly  not  his  duty  to  share  his  stage  with  a 
stranger  and  a  rival.  At  the  same  time  we  may 
give  him  credit  for  a  certain  delicate  finesse,  and  he 
may  have  later  thought,  with  a  smiling,  good- 
humoured  complacency,  that,  owing  to  his  allow- 
ing the  experiment,  the  issue  had  turned  out  very 
differently  from  what  "good-natured  people"  had 
hoped.  He  had  not  been  "  played  down."  The 
mortification  for  the  American  must  have  been 
the  greater  from  the  disadvantage  of  the  con- 
trast, which  brought  out  in  the  most  forcible  way 
the  want  of  "distinction,"  the  stock  of  old,  rather 
faded,  devices  with  which  he  came  provided,  and 
which  he  tried  on  his  audience  with  an  antique 
gravity.  Audiences  have,  unfortunately,  but  little 
delicacy.  In  their  plain  way  they  show  their  appre- 
ciation of  whom  they  think  "the  better  man"  in 
a  business-like  manner  ;  and  I  remember  how  they 


'OTHELLO'  REVIVED  131 

insisted  that  the  encouraging  applause  which  they 
gave  to  the  new  actor  should  be  shared  by  his  host.^ 
When  the  actor  took   his   benefit — how  strange 
the  phrase   reads,  for   the    new   generation   knows 
nothing    of    "  benefits  "  ! — at    the     close    of    this 
laborious  season,  the  theatre  presented   an  opera- 
house   appearance,   and    was  filled   to   overflowing 
with  a  miscellany  of  brave  men  and  fair  women, 
the   latter  arrayed  in  special  splendour  and  giving 
the  whole  an  air   of  rich  luxury  and  magnificence 
befitting  the  handsomest  and  best-appointed  theatre 
in  the  kingdom.     Bouquets  of  unusual  brilliancy  and 
dimensions  were  laid  in  position,  clearly  not  brought 
for  the  enjoyment  of  the  owners.     The  entertain- 
ment consisted  of  the   stock  piece  of  'The   Bells.' 
Mr.    Toole   performed    Mr.     Hollingshead's    farce, 
*  The  Birthplace  of  Podgers,'  a  happy  subject,  which 
showed  that  the  "germ"  of  the  aesthete  "business" 
existed  twenty  years  before.     The  feature  of  the 
night  was  a  well-known  scene  from  '  The  Hunch- 
back,' in  which  Modus  is  so  pleasantly  drawn  into 
making  a  declaration.     Sheridan  Knowles  is  often 
ridiculed  for  his  sham   Elizabethan  situations  ;  yet 
it  may  be  doubted  if  any  living  writer  could  treat 
this  incident  with  such   freshness  or  so  naturally. 
It  is  a  piece  of  good  wearing  stuff,  and  will  wear 
even  better.     When  the  scene  drew  up,  the  hand- 
some curtains,  festooned  in  rich  and  abundant  folds, 

'  It  should  be  mentioned  that  the  prices  on  this  engagement 
were  raised  to  the  opera  scale — a  guinea  in  the  stalls,  half  a 
guinea  for  the  dress-circle.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  later  when 
Irving  went  to  the  States  Booth  studiously  kept  aloof. 


132  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

revealed  a  new  effect,  throwing  out,  by  contrast, 
the  pale  greenish-tinted  scene,  and  heightening  the 
light  so  that  the  two  figures  were  projected  on 
this  mellow  background  with  wonderful  brilliancy. 
It  was  played  in  sparkling  fashion  by  Irving  and 
his  partner.  Miss  Terry's  performance  was  full 
of  animation  and  piquancy.  Most  remarkable, 
indeed,  was  the  new  store  of  unexpected  attitudes 
and  graces  revealed  at  every  moment — pretty 
stoopings,  windings,  sudden  half-turns,  inviting 
"rallyings" — so  that  even  a  Modus  more  insen- 
sible to  her  advances  must  have  succumbed.  But 
in  truth  this  wonderful  creature  "  adorns  all 
she  touches."  There  was  a  Jordan-like  vein  of 
comedy.  Irving's  Modus  was  full  of  a  quaint 
earnestness,  and  his  air  of  helplessness  in  the  hands 
of  such  a  mistress  was  well  maintained.  Modus 
is  generally  made  to  hover  on  the  verge  of  oafish- 
ness,  so  as  to  make  it  surprising  that  there  should 
be  any  object  in  winning  such  a  being.  Irving 
imparted  a  suitable  air  to  it,  and  lifted  the  character 
into  pure  comedy. 

At  the  end  came  the  expected  speech,  delivered 
with  a  pleasant  familiarity,  and  dwelling  on  past 
successes  and  future  plans.  It  was  a  pleasant  and 
remarkable  season  to  look  back  upon :  the  en- 
chanting 'Cup,'  which  lingers  like  a  dream,  or 
lotus-eating  fancy ;  the  '  Corsican  Brothers,'  so 
sumptuously  mounted  ;  the  splendid  'Othello,'  the 
meeting^  of  the  American  and  the  Enorlish  actor  on 
the  same  stage,  and  their  strangely  opposed  readings 
of  the  same  characters. 


"OLD  HOWE"  133 

The  performance  of  '  The  Belle's  Stratagem,' 
which  supplemented  the  attraction  of  '  Othello,'  was 
interesting,  as  it  introduced  once  more  to  active  life 
that  excellent  and  sound  old  actor,  Henry  Howe, 
who  was  then,  perhaps,  the  only  link  with  the 
generation  of  the  greater  actors.  It  was  a  graceful 
and  thoughtful  act  of  Irving's  to  seek  out  the 
veteran  and  attach  him  to  his  company.  In  the 
years  following  he  always  treated  him  with  a  kindly 
and  courteous  consideration.  Every  one  who  knew 
Howe  could  testify  to  his  pleasant,  lovable  quali- 
ties. He  had  not  a  particle  of  that  testy  discontent 
which  too  often  distinguishes  the  veteran  actor,  who 
extols  the  past  and  is  discontented  with  the  present, 
because  it  is  discontented  with  hwi,  or  thinks  that 
he  lags  superfluous  on  the  stage.  As  we  have  talked 
with  him  of  a  summer's  afternoon,  in  his  little  retreat 
at  Isle  worth,  the  image  of  many  a  pleasant  hour 
in  the  old  Haymarket  days  has  risen  up  with  his 
presence.  With  him  rose  Buckstone,  Mrs.  Fitz- 
william.  Miss  Woolgar,  and  so  many  more.  It  was 
always  pleasant  to  encounter  his  honest  face  in  the 
Strand,  where  he  lived,  as  he  was  hurrying  to  his 
work.  ^ 

'  This  performer  was  associated  with  the  best  traditions  of  the 
good  old  school ;  and  is  linked  with  many  interesting  associa- 
tions. It  is  curious,  too,  to  think  that  he  belonged  to  the  Society 
of  Friends.  We  have,  and  have  had,  a  good  many  Jews  upon  the 
stage,  but  a  Quaker  is  a  rarity.  When  he  was  in  America,  he 
related  the  story  of  his  life  to  an  inquirer :  "  I  was  attending  a 
public  school  in  Yorkshire.  It  was  a  Quaker  school  at  Ackworth, 
although  boys  not  of  Quaker  parentage  attended  it.  Somehow 
I  was  always  selected  to  recite  some  piece  for  the  visitors — some  of 


134  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

In  January,  1882,  our  manager  revived  a  piece  in 
which  he  had  achieved  one  of  his  earliest  triumphs 
— 'The  Two  Roses.'  Miss  Terry  was  at  this  time 
busily  preparing  for  what  was  to  be  her  great  effort, 
in  Juliet,  and  this  interruption  to  her  labours  was 
judicious  policy  on  the  manager's  part.  Much  had 
occurred  during  the  long  interval  of  twelve  years 
since  the  play  had  been  first  performed,  but  many 
still  recalled  with  enjoyment  Irving's  masterly  crea- 
tion. When  he  was  casting  the  characters  for  the 
piece,  he  had  counted  on  the  original  Caleb  Decie — 
Thorne — who  held  the  traditions  of  the  play.  Owing 
to  some  sudden  change — I  think  to  his  entering  on 
management — this  arrangement  had  to  be  given  up, 
and  the  manager  was  somewhat  perplexed  as  to  who 
he  could  find  to  fill  the  character.  He  happened 
to    be    in    Glasgow   at    this    time,    when    the  local 

those  old  pieces,  you  know,  such  as  '  The  Roman  Gladiator,'  or 
'Paul  before  Agrippa.'  In  this  way  I  acquired  my  first  liking  for  the 
stage.  One  night  I  went  with  my  cousin  John  to  the  Old  Drury 
Lane  Theatre  to  see  Kean,  who  was  then  creating  a  furore  by  his 
magnificent  acting.  In  those  days,  you  know,  they  sold  good 
seats  in  the  gallery  for  a  shilling  ;  so  I  and  my  cousin  Jack  paid 
our  shilling — the  usual  half-price — and  went  into  the  gallery.  I 
shall  never  forget  that  night.  The  playing  opened,  I  think,  with 
the  third  act.  I  see  Kean  as  plainly  as  if  it  were  only  yesterday. 
There  he  sat,  a  small  man,  upon  his  throne  in  the  middle  of  the 
stage.  Well,  after  leaving  the  theatre,  Jack  and  I  had  to  cross  a 
bridge  on  our  way  home.  I  sat  down  in  the  recess  of  the  bridge, 
almost  overcome  by  my  emotion,  and  said,  '  John,  I  am  going  to 
be  an  actor.'  He  tried  to  dissuade  me,  and  laughed  at  the  folly 
of  the  idea,  but  my  mind  was  made  up."  One  of  the  most  strik- 
ing incidents  of  'King  Lear'  was  the  "ovation,"  as  it  is  called, 
which  greeted  the  veteran  as  he  presented  himself  in  a  small 
character. 


'THE   TWO   ROSES'   REVIVED  135 

manager  said  to  him,  "  There  is  a  young  fellow 
here  who,  I  think,  would  exactly  suit  you  ;  he  is 
intelligent,  hard-working,  and  anxious  to  get  on. 
His  name  is  Alexander."  Irving  listened  to  the 
advice,  and  secured  an  actor  who  was  of  his  own 
school,  of  well-defined  instincts  and  much  elegance, 
and  exactly  suited  to  h^jeune  premier  o^xhe.  Lyceum. 
It  may  be  conceived  with  what  delight,  as  he  him- 
self has  told  me,  this  unexpected  opening  was  re- 
ceived by  the  then  obscure  youth  ;  and  at  a  pleasant 
supper  the  new  engagement  was  ratified.  Now  the 
young  Glasgow  candidate  is  the  prosperous  manager 
of  the  St.  James's  Theatre,  a  position  which  many 
years  of  conscientious  work  has  placed  him  in.  Far 
more  rough  and  thorny  was  the  path  along  which 
Irving  had  to  toil,  during  a  score  of  years,  before  he 
found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  theatre.  But  in  these 
Jin  de  siecle  times,  both  days  and  hours  have  doubled 
their  value. 

The  piece  was  well  mounted  and  well  played,  and 
there  was  much  interest  felt  in  comparing  the  new 
cast  with  the  old.  In  a  pleasant,  half-sad  medita- 
tion, my  friend  the  late  Clement  Scott  called  up 
some  of  the  old  memories ;  the  tyrant  Death,  he  said, 
had  played  sad  havoc  with  the  original  companies 
that  did  so  much  for  this  English  comedy.  "  Far 
away,  leagues  from  home,  across  the  Atlantic  sleep 
both  Harry  Montague  and  Amy  Fawcitt.  We  may 
associate  them  still  with  Jack  Wyatt  and  Lottie — 
who  seemed  the  very  boy  and  girl  lovers  that  such 
a  theme  required — so  bright  and  manly  and  noble, 
so  tender,   young,  and  handsome."     David  James 


136  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

had  taken  the  place  of  the  oleaginous  Honey,  and 
for  those  who  had  not  seen  the  latter,  was  an 
admirable  representative  of  the  part.  The  "  Roses" 
were  Miss  Helen  Mathews  and  Miss  Emery. 

The  manager,  in  his  old  part,  received  much 
praise  from  the  entire  circle  of  critics.  Some  con- 
sidered it  his  most  perfect  creation,  and  likened  it 
to  Got's  'Due  Job'  and  Regnier's  'Annibal.'  It 
was  certainly  a  finished  and  original  perform- 
ance ;  but  it  must  be  confessed  that  the  larger 
stage  and  larger  house  had  its  effect,  and  tempted 
the  actor  into  laying  greater  emphasis  on  details  of 
the  character.  It  was  much  "  coarsened,"  even  over- 
done ;  for  Irving  now  was  beginning  to  lose  that 
delicate  comedy  touch,  which  once  so  distinguished 
him — and  I  really  think  fancied  he  could  be  farcical 
when  he  chose.  But  an  actor  cannot  stand  still,  as 
it  were.  Repetition  for  a  hundred  nights  is  one  of 
the  vices  of  the  modern  stage,  and  leads  to  artifi- 
ciality. Under  the  old  repertoire  system,  when  a 
piece  was  given  for  a  few  nights,  then  suspended  to 
be  resumed  after  an  interval,  the  actor  came  to  his 
part  with  a  certain  freshness  and  feeling  of  novelty. 

At  the  same  time,  it  should  be  said  that  the  play 
itself  was  accountable  for  this  loss  of  effect.  It  was 
of  but  an  ephemeral  sort,  and  belonged  to  an  old 
school  which  had  passed  away.  It  was  written  for 
a  particular  moment  and  season.  Other  players 
besides  Irving,  conscious  of  this  weakness,  have 
felt  themselves  constrained  to  supplement  it  by 
such  broad  touchings.  The  average  "  play  of 
commerce "    is    but   the    inspiration    of    the    time. 


THE   LYCEUM  BEAUTIFIED  137 

and  engendered  by  it — authors,  manager,  actors, 
audience,  all  join,  as  it  were,  in  the  composition. 
Every  portion,  therefore,  reflects  the  tone  of  the 
time.  But  after  a  number  of  years  this  tone 
becomes  lost  or  forgotten  ;  the  fashions  of  feeling 
and  emotion,  both  off  as  well  as  on  the  stage,  also 
pass  away :  it  seems  flat,  and  must  be  supplemented. 
When  closing  his  season  and  making  the  im- 
portant announcement  of  the  selection  of  '  Romeo 
and  Juliet '  for  the  new  one,  the  manager  promised 
alterations  and  improvements  in  the  theatre.  These 
were  duly  carried  out,  and  not  only  added  to 
the  comfort  of  the  audience,  but  also  to  the  profits 
of  the  management.  The  corridor  at  the  back  of 
the  dress-circle  was  taken  in,  and  supplied  some 
sixty  or  seventy  new  seats  ;  while  below,  on  the  pit 
floor,  place  was  found  for  some  two  hundred  addi- 
tional persons,  by  including  the  saloon.^  Further, 
the  arch  of  the  gallery  which  impeded  the  view  was 
raised,  padded  seats  were  furnished  for  the  pit,  and 
the  manager  was  willing  even  to  supply  "  backs," 
an  unusual  luxury — to  the  seats  in  the  gallery  ;  but 
the  Lord  Chamberlain  interposed,  on  the  ground 
that  in  any  panic  or  hurrying  down  the  steep 
ascent,  these  might  be  found  an  obstruction. 
Other  alterations  were  made  in  the  exits  and 
entrances — though  these  were  merely  in  the  nature 
of  makeshifts.     The  manager  was  not  content  until, 

'  It  was  amazing  in  the  pre-County  Council  days  how  such 
shifts  could  be  tolerated.  The  Lyceum  pit  was  always  a  terrible 
cavern,  and  in  case  of  panic  there  would  have  been  terrible 
scenes. 


138  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

many  years  later,  he  had  purchased  the  adjoining 
houses  and  thoroughly  remodelled  the  whole.  ^ 

In  the  interval  he  took  his  company  on  a  pro- 
vincial tour  to  the  leadinof  towns.  At  Glasgfow  it 
was  proclaimed  to  be  "  the  greatest  engagement 
ever  witnessed  in  that  city."  As  he  told  his 
audience  on  the  last  night,  the  receipts  for  the 
twelve  nights  amounted  to  over  ^4,000 — an 
average  of  ^334  per  night.  But  the  extra- 
ordinary "  drawing  "  power  of  our  actor  was  never 
exhibited  more  signally  than  during  the  engage- 
ment at  Edinburgh,  at  Mr.  Howard's  theatre, 
which  produced  results  that  were  really  unprece- 
dented. On  his  last  appearance  Irving  told  the 
audience  that  this  "  engagement — and  you  must 
not   take    it    for   egotism — has   been   the  most  re- 

'  For  a  time  the  house  was  "on  crutches,"  as  it  is  called,  an 
operation  of  considerable  architectural  delicacy.  In  the  great 
"  cellarage "  below  the  stage,  huge  storehouses  filled  with  the 
rubbish  of  half  a  century,  were  discovered  masses  of  decayed 
peacocks'  feathers,  which  much  perplexed  the  explorers  and 
everybody  else,  until  it  was  recalled  that  these  were  the  antique 
"  properties "  used  by  Madame  Vestris  in  one  of  her  Planche 
burlesques.  The  labour  was  herculean,  and  the  indefatigable 
Bram  Stoker  threw  himself  with  heart  and  soul  into  the  business. 
We  might  lament,  however,  that  the  beautiful  interior  suffered 
somewhat  in  these  later  alterations.  The  elegant  contour  was  dis- 
turbed ;  the  double  pillars,  which  recurred  periodically  in  the 
dress-circle,  were  reduced  to  a  single  one.  The  fine  entrance-hall 
lost  its  symmetry  from  being  enlarged.  But  such  sacrifices  are 
absolutely  necessary,  and  are  not  the  first  that  have  had  to  be 
made  under  "  the  form  and  pressure  of  the  time."  The  altera- 
tions cost  a  very  large  sum  indeed,  but  our  manager  has  always 
been  an  improving  tenant,  and  has  periodically  laid  out  vast 
sums  on  the  improvement  and  decoration  of  his  house. 


GREAT  RECEIPTS  139 

markable  one  played  for  any  twelve  nights  in  any 
theatre,  I  should  think,  in  Great  Britain,  certainly 
out  of  London,  and  there  are  some  large  theatres 
in  London.  I  may  tell  you  that  there  has  been 
taken  during  the  engagement  here  ^4,300,  which  is 
certainly  the  largest  sum  ever  had  before  in  any 
theatre  during  the  space  of  time,  and  I  believe  it  is 
perfectly  unprecedented  in  any  city."  This  was  a 
tribute  to  his  attraction.  On  his  departure  a  gold 
repeater  watch  was  presented  to  him. 


CHAPTER    X 
1882 

'  ROMEO    AND    JULIET  ' — BANQUET 

BY  March  8,  1882,  the  great  revival  of  '  Romeo 
and  JuHet '  was  ready.  For  this  performance 
the  manager  drew  upon  all  the  resources  of  his 
taste,  purse,  study,  and  experience.  The  fascinating 
play,  indeed,  offered  opportunities  for  adornment 
only  too  tempting.  Those  glittering,  bewitching 
pictures  still  linger  in  the  memory  of  the  playgoer, 
though  so  many  years  have  elapsed  since  the 
opening  night.  "  Among  the  restorations  will  be 
found  that  of  Romeo's  unrequited  love  for  Rosaline, 
omitted,  among  other  things,  in  Garrick's  version." 
Those  who  came  away  from  the  Lyceum  on  that 
opening  night  must  have  had  a  sense  almost  of 
bewilderment,  so  rich  and  dazzling  were  the  scenes 
of  light  and  colour  that  had  for  hours  passed  before 
their  eyes.  According  to  a  true  illusive  principle 
of  this  stage,  the  lights  were  lowered  as  every 
scene  was  about  to  change,  by  which  a  sense  of 
mystery  was  produced,  and  the  prosaic  mechanism 
of   the    movement    shrouded.       Hence,    a    sort    of 

140 


'ROMEO   AND  JULIET'  141 

richness  of  effect  and  surprise  as  the  gloom  passes 
away  and  a  gorgeous  scene  steeped  in  effulgence 
and  colour  is  revealed.  Since  this  sentence  was 
written  the  darkening  has  become  a  familiar,  almost 
necessary  custom,  though  the  darkening  has  been 
overdone.  Irving,  perhaps,  did  not  know  that  it 
was  Goethe  who  first  indicated  this  method.  It 
would  take  long  to  detail  the  beautiful  views,  streets, 
palaces,  chambers,  dresses,  groupings,  that  were  set 
before  the  audience,  all  devised  with  an  extra- 
ordinary originality  and  fertility  of  resource  ;  though 
this  was  the  third  of  these  Italian  revivals.  When 
it  is  considered  that  there  were  twenty-two  scenes, 
and  that  most  of  these  were  "  sets,"  it  is  amazing 
with  what  rapidity  and  smoothness  the  changes  were 
contrived.  All  was  glitter  and  jewels  and  colours, 
and  all  bathed  in  floods  of  light ;  Shakespeare 
seemed  altogether  lost  and  drowned.  Not  the  least 
pleasurable  part  of  the  whole  was  the  romantic 
music,  written  in  a  flowing,  tender  strain  by  Sir 
Julius  Benedict,  full  of  a  juvenile  freedom  and 
spirit,  thoroughly  Italian  in  character,  and  having 
something  of  the  grace  and  character  of  Schubert's 
'  Rosamunde.'  In  the  exquisite  garden,  with  it, 
depths  of  silvered  trees  glistening  in  the  moonlight, 
viewed  from  a  terrace,  the  arrangement  of  the 
balcony  was  the  only  successful  solution  seen  as 
yet.  It  has  always  been  forgotten  that  Juliet  has 
to  act — is,  as  it  were,  "  on  the  stage  " — and  should 
not  be  perched  in  a  little  wobbling  cage.  Here  it 
was  made  a  sort  of  solid  loggia,  as  much  a  part 
of  the    stage    as  that    upon    which   her   lover   was 


142  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

standing.     I   fancy  this  was  the  scenic  triumph  of 
the  night. 

When  we  consider  that  Romeo  and  Juliet  are 
characters  almost  impossible  to  play  so  as  to 
reach  the  Shakespearian  ideal,  it  becomes  easier  to 
"liberate  one's  mind"  on  the  subject  of  the  per- 
formance of  the  two  leadinof  characters.  The  chief 
objection  was  that  they  scarcely  presented  the  ideal 
of  superabundant  youth — boyish  and  girlish — re- 
quired by  the  play.  I  have  always  thought  this 
a  point  to  be  but  little  insisted  upon  ;  it  is  much  the 
same  as  with  strictness  of  costume,  which  is  over- 
powered, as  it  were,  by  the  acting.  It  is  the  acting 
of  youth,  not  the  appearance  of  youth,  that  is 
required  ;  and  a  case  is  conceivable  where  all  the 
flush  of  youth  with  its  physical  accompaniments 
may  be  present  in  perfection,  and  yet  from  failure 
of  the  acting  the  idea  of  maturity  and  age  may  be 
conveyed. I     In  the  dramatic  ball-room  scene,  when 

'  Mr.  Labouchere,  a  shrewd  observer,  a  friend  and  admirer  of 
the  actor's  abilities,  always  speaks  out  his  opinions  in  plain,  blunt 
terms  :  "  An  actor  must,  in  order  to  win  popularity,  have  man- 
nerisms, and  the  more  peculiar  they  are,  the  greater  will  be  his 
popularity.  No  one  can  for  a  moment  suppose  that  Mr.  Irving 
could  not  speak  distinctly,  progress  about  the  stage  after  the 
fashion  of  human  beings,  and  stand  still  without  balancing  to 
and  fro  if  he  pleased.  Yet,  had  he  not  done  all  this,  he 
would — notwithstanding  that  there  is  a  touch  of  real  genius 
about  his  acting  sometimes — never  have  made  the  mark  that  he 
has.  He  is,  indeed,  to  the  stage  what  Lord  Beaconsfield  was  to 
politics.  That  exceedingly  able  man  never  could  utter  the 
resonant  clap-trap  in  which  he  so  often  indulged,  and  which 
made  men  talk  about  him,  without  almost  showing  by  his  manner 
that  he  himself  despised  the  tricks  which  gave  him  individuality. 


'ROMEO  AND  JULIET'  143 

he  was  moving  about  arrayed  as  a  pilgrim,  the 
unbecoming  dress  and  rather  too  swarthy  features 
seemed  to  convey  the  presentment  of  a  person  in 
the  prime  of  Hfe.  The  critics  spoke  freely  in  this 
sense. 

It  was,  indeed — if  we  must  speak  the  truth — 
a  most  grotesque  exhibition,  and  when  he  became 
the  passionate  lover,  his  frantic  gestures  and  extra- 
ordinary gamut  became  truly  comic.  The  youthful 
antics  combined  with  an  elderly  face,  even  now 
provokes  a  smile.  But  such  experiments  are  par- 
donable and  natural  too.  It  was  really  the  fault  of 
the  assiduous  flappers  and  flatterers.  "Oh,  Mr. 
Irving,  you  would  be  an  ideal  Romeo!"  I  heard 
some  ladies  say  at  a  dinner;  "you  7nust  act  Romeo." 
But  in  the  latter,  more  tragic  portion  of  the  play, 
the  very  intensity  of  the  emotion  seemed  to  add 
maturity  and  depth  to  the  character  of  Romeo. 
Nothing  could  better  supply  the  notion  of  im- 
pending destiny,  of  gathering  gloom,  than  the 
view  of  the  dismal,  heart-chilling  street,  the  scene 
of  the  visit  to  the  apothecary.  Our  actor's  pic- 
turesque sense  was  shown  in  his  almost  perfect 
conception  of  this  situation.  The  forlorn  look  of 
the    houses,    the    general    desolation,    the    stormy 


Were  Mr.  Irving  at  present  to  abate  his  peculiarities,  his  fervent 
worshippers  would  complain  that  their  idol  was  sinking  into  mere 
common-place.  Therefore,  as  I  sincerely  hope  that,  for  his  sake, 
the  idolaters  will  continue  to  bow  down  before  him  and  fill  his 
treasury,  I  trust  that  he  will  never  change."  There  is  a  cynical 
flavour  in  this,  and  it  is  not  very  flattering  to  the  audience,  but 
underlying  it  there  is  much  truth. 


144  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

grandeur  in  keeping  with  the  surroundings,  the 
properly  subdued  grotesqueness  of  the  seller  of 
simples  (it  was  the  grotesqueness  of  fnisery  that 
was  conveyed),  filled  the  heart  with  a  sadness  that 
was  almost  real.  In  Miss  Terry's  case  there  was  a 
division  of  opinions,  some  thinking  her  performance 
all  but  perfect,  others  noting  the  absence  of  "girlish- 
ness."  All  agreed  as  to  its  engaging  character  and 
its  winning  charm.  Terriss  was  the  Mercutio, 
which  he  gave  with  his  favourite  blunt  impetuosity. 
One  of  the  most  perfectly  played  characters  was 
Mrs.  Stirling's  Nurse.  This  accomplished  woman 
represented  all  the  best  traditions — high  training, 
admirable  elocution,  with  the  art  of  giving  due 
weight  and  breadth  to  every  utterance.  And 
yet — here  was  a  curious  phenomenon — the  very 
excellence  of  the  delineation  disturbed  the  balance 
of  the  play.  The  Nurse  became  almost  as  im- 
portant as  the  leading  pair,  but  from  no  fault  of 
the  actress.  She  but  followed  the  due  course. 
Such  is  a  blemish  which  is  found  in  many 
exhibitions  of  Shakespearian  plays,  where  the 
inferior  actor  works  up  his  Dogberry,  or  his 
Gravedigger,  or  his  Bottom  the  Weaver,  or  his 
melancholy  Jacques,  to  the  very  fullest  extent 
of  which  they  are  capable.  But  there  should 
be  subordination ;  these  are  merely  humours  ex- 
hibited en  passant.  With  an  actress  of  Mrs. 
Stirling's  powers  and  rank,  the  manager  no  doubt 
felt  too  much  delicacy  to  interfere  ;  nor  would 
perhaps  the  audience  have  placidly  accepted  any 
effacing     of    her     part.        But     as    it     was,     the 


BANQUET  145 

figure    of    this    humble    retainer    became    unduly- 
prominent.'' 

'  Romeo  and  Juliet'  was  witnessed  one  night  by 
the  impetuous  Sarah  Bernhardt,  who  afterwards 
came  behind  the  scenes  to  congratulate  the  per- 
formers. "  How  can  you  act  in  this  way  every 
night  ?  "  she  exclaimed  to  Ellen  Terry.  The  latter, 
in  her  simple,  natural  way,  explained  :  "It  is  the 
audience — they  inspire  me  !  " 

Such  was  this  refined,  elegant,  and  brilliant 
spectacle,  which,  as  usual,  furnished  "talk  for  the 
town,"  and  stirred  its  interest.  The  hundredth 
night  of  performance  was  celebrated  by  the  usual 
banquet  on  the  stage,  on  Sunday  night,  June  25, 
1882.  Here  assembled  critics,  dramatists,  artists, 
e  tutti  quanti;  there  were  many  admirers,  friends, 
and  sympathisers  present,  most  of  whom  have 
since  passed  away.  There  is  a  sadness  in  thinking 
of  these  disappearances. 

But  among  the  guests  at  the  banquet  was  Mr. 
Abbey,  the  American  manager,  well  known  for 
his  many  daring  and  very  successful  coups  in 
management.  His  appearance  excited  much  inte- 
rest and  speculation.  In  the  course  of  the  night 
there  were  rumours  circulated  as  to  the  motives 
of  his  presence  in  town;  but  an  allusion  in  Irving's 
speech,  when  he  said  pointedly  that  he  hoped  next 
year  to  have  good  experience  of  the  cordiality  of 
American  audiences,  set  the  matter  at  rest.     This 

'  A  rapturous  article  from  a  Liverpool  critic,  Sir  E.  Russell, 
appeared  in  Mactnillan's  Magazine^  which  was,  indeed,  too 
indiscriminating  in  its  praises. 

11 


146  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

scheme  had  long  been  in  his  thoughts  ;  and,  indeed, 
already  many  invitations  and  proposals  had  been 
made  to  him  to  visit  the  United  States.  There 
was  something  dazzling  and  fascinating  in  this 
prospect  of  going  forth  to  conquer  a  new  great 
kingdom  and  new  audiences.  There  was  the 
chance,  too,  of  riches  "beyond  the  dreams  of 
avarice."  No  wonder,  then,  that  the  scheme 
began  to  take  shape,  and  was  presently  to  be 
decided  upon. 

After  one  hundred  and  thirty  nights'  performance 
of  '  Romeo  and  Juliet,'  the  season  was  brought  to 
a  close,  the  manager  taking  "a  benefit"  on  his  last 
night.  Some  ungracious  folk  objected  to  this  old- 
established  form  of  compliment,  but  he  defended 
it  in  a  very  modest  and  judicious  way. 


CHAPTER   XI 

1882 

'  MUCH      ADO      ABOUT      NOTHING  ' — AMERICAN      VISIT 

ARRANGED 

IN  his  speech  at  the  close  of  the  season,  the 
manager  announced  the  new  piece  selected  for 
the  next  season.  With  the  judicious  view  to  con- 
trast or  relief  which  directed  all  his  efforts,  he  had 
setded  on  a  true  comedy — the  effective  '  Much  Ado 
About  Nothing.'  To  this  piece  many  had  long 
since  pointed  as  being  exactly  adapted  to  the 
special  gifts  of  the  two  performers.  Here  was  the 
fourth  Shakespearian  play  of  an  Italian  complexion 
and  atmosphere,  which  entailed  accordingly  a  fresh 
exhibition  of  Italian  streets,  manners,  and  costumes. 
A  happy  impression  was  produced  by  the  very  note 
of  preparation,  the  air  was  filled  with  the  breath  of 
the  coming  piece ;  all  felt,  in  anticipation,  the  agree- 
able humours  and  fancies  of  Benedick  and  his 
Beatrice.  This  feeling  of  comedy,  it  may  be  said, 
is  ever  a  delightful  one  ;  it  spreads  abroad  a  placid, 

147 


148  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

quiet  enjoyment  and  good-humour  with  which 
nothing  else  can  compare. 

On  Wednesday,  October  ii,  1882,  the  delightful 
piece  was  brought  out.  From  the  excellent  acting 
of  the  two  principal  performers,  and  the  beautiful 
"  setting  "  of  the  whole,  it  was  destined  to  become 
one  of  the  most  popular  and  acceptable  of  the 
Lyceum  rt^pertoire.  By  a  curious  delusion,  owing 
no  doubt  to  the  recollection  of  the  lavish  splendours 
of  '  Romeo  and  Juliet,'  some  critics  pronounced  that 
it  had  been  brought  out  with  but  a  moderate  display 
of  scenic  resources.  The  truth  was  that  the  play 
had  been  "  mounted  "  with  as  much  state  as  it  would 
properly  bear.  Some  scenes  were  equipped  in  an 
unusually  lavish  and  superb  style.  The  general 
effect,  however,  was  harmonious  ;  indeed,  the  happy 
tact  of  the  manager  was  never  displayed  to  such 
advantage  as  in  seizing  on  what  might  be  termed 
the  proper  key  of  the  piece.  When  we  recall,  with 
a  pleasant  enjoyment,  these  various  Lyceum  spec- 
tacles, we  find  that  there  is  no  confusion  of  one 
with  the  other,  that  each  has  a  special,  distinct 
note,  and  thus  was  started  a  train  of  impressions, 
delightful  for  their  variety,  which  enrich  the 
chambers  of  the  memory. 

There  was  one  scene  which,  for  its  splendour  and 
originality,  was  to  be  talked  of  for  many  a  day,  viz., 
the  beautiful  interior  of  a  church  at  Messina — the 
''Church  Scene,"  as  it  was  called.  The  art  dis- 
played here,  the  combination  of  "  built-up  "  scenery 
with  "cloths,"  the  rich  harmonious  tintings,  the 
ecclesiastical    details,    the    metal-work,    altars,    &c., 


'MUCH   ADO   ABOUT   NOTHING'  149 

made  an  exquisite  picture.  ^  The  well-known 
passage  of  the  interrupted  bridal  was  "laid  out" 
with  extraordinary  picturesqueness,  much  emphasis 
being  given  to  the  religious  rites.  It  was  felt,  how- 
ever, that  the  genuflections  before  the  altar  were 
introducing-  rather  too  awful  a  sugrorestion,  though 
the  intention  was,  no  doubt,  reverent.  It  must  be 
admitted  by  all  whose  memories  wander  back  to 
that  performance,  that  the  vision  of  this  "  Church 
Scene  "  rises  before  them  with  an  almost  pathetic 
significance,  owing  in  some  part  to  the  touching, 
sympathetic  acting  of  Miss  Millward.  One  of  the 
most  typical  instances  of  Irving's  dealings  with 
Shakespeare  was  found  in  this  effective  ecclesi- 
astical panorama.  Still  the  critic  is  compelled  to 
say  that  this  "  Church  Scene  "  unhappily  exhibits 
the  worst  vices  of  the  new  Shakespearian  illustra- 
tion. The  stage  directions  are  large  and  general : 
as  here,  "A  Church."  By  this  is  meant  simply 
the  precincts  of  a  church — somewhere  within  the 
walls.  All  Catholics  know  that  in  great  cathedrals 
the  average  wedding  takes  place  in  a  side  chapel — 
a  clergyman  comes  out  and  ties  the  knot  ;  there 
is  no  procession,  incense,  boys,  or  trains  of  priests. 
The  familiarity  of  the  talk  and  lack  of  reverence 
shows  that  it  took  place  somewhere  in  aisles  when 
folk  talk  freely.  The  idea  of  Benedick  and  Beatrice 
making  love  in  front  of  the  high  altar  is  not  to  be 
thought  of. 

'  Mr.  Forbes  Robertson,  who  is  painter  as  well  as  actor,  depicted 
this  striking  scene  on  canvas,  giving  portraits  of  the  performers.  It 
has  been  engraved  (or  rather  "processed  ")  with  very  happy  result. 


150  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

All  eyes,  as  it  may  be  conceived,  were  drawn  to 
the  figures  of  Benedick  and  Beatrice,  as  portrayed 
by  Irving  and  Ellen  Terry.  Their  scenes  were 
followed  with  a  delighted  interest,  and  their  gay 
encounters  of  wit  and  flirtation  gave  unalloyed 
pleasure.  Irving  threw  a  Malvolian  gravity  over 
the  character,  alternated  by  a  certain  jocoseness. 

He  also  imparted  to  the  character  a  sort  of 
pragmatical  air — but  somewhat  lacked  the  gay, 
impulsive,  irresponsible  feeling.  Self-consciousness, 
to  a  certain  degree,  was  always  present.  At  the 
same  time  he  did  it  far  better  than  any  one  else 
could  do  it  :  and  his  own  strong  personality 
neutralized  defects. 

These  two  characters.  Benedick  and  Beatrice,  are 
so  much  the  heritage  of  all  lovers  of  true  comedy, 
that  every  one  seems  to  have  fixed  a  standard  for 
himself,  which  he  will  critically  apply  to  every 
representation.  This  partiality  does  not  make  us 
particularly  exigeant,  but  we  have  each  our  own 
fancies.  There  is  nothing  more  interesting,  enter- 
taining, or  fruitful  in  speculation  than  the  discussion 
of  how  favourite  characters  in  comedy  should  be 
represented.  It  is  as  though  they  were  figures 
in  real  life.  For  myself,  I  confess  I  should  have 
preferred  that  the  actor  had  taken  the  character 
into  still  higher  realms  of  airy  comedy,  and 
had  less  emphasised  the  somewhat  farcical  pas- 
sages. Benedick  was  a  man  of  capacity,  a  soldier, 
a  gentleman,  and  though  he  was  likely  to  be 
so  imposed  upon,  he  would  not  have  given  his 
friends  the  satisfaction  of  seeing    him   in    this  de- 


AMERICAN   VISIT   ARRANGED  151 

jected  condition,  almost  inviting  laughter  and  rude 
**  rallying."  ^ 

During  all  this  time,  preparations  for  the  great 
American  visit  were  being  carefully  matured. 
There  is  supposed  to  be  a  sort  of  hostility  be- 
tween artistic  gifts  and  business-like  habits ;  but 
Irving  always  showed  great  capacity  where  organi- 
sation and  arrangement  were  in  question — he  had 
the  clearest  vision,  and  the  firmest,  most  decided 
purpose.  In  this  he  has  often  suggested  a  surprising 
likeness  to  the  departed  novelist  Dickens,  who  was 
also  remarkable  for  his  business  power  and  decision 
of  character,  and  whose  motto  it  was  to  do  even  a 
trifle  in  the  best  way  that  it  could  be  done.  Any- 
thing worth  doing  at  all,  he  would  say,  was  worth 
doing  well. 

Nothing  then  was  left  undone  to  ensure  success. 
Everything   was  "thought    out"    beforehand   with 

^  It  was  an  unusual  tribute  to  the  interest  excited  in  every 
direction  by  the  actor's  personality,  that  the  lady  students  at 
University  College  should  have  chosen  him  for  the  subject  of  a 
formal  debate,  under  the  presidency  of  the  clever  Miss  Fawcett. 
The  thesis  set  down  was,  "That  Henry  Irving  has,  by  his 
dramatic  genius,  earned  his  place  as  foremost  among  living 
actors,"  and  the  discussion  was  begun  with  much  spirit  and 
fluency  by  Miss  Rees,  who  proceeded  to  give  an  analysis  of 
his  Hamlet  and  other  characters,  contending  that  his  extra- 
ordinary success  was  a  proof  of  his  merit.  The  opposition  was 
led  by  Mrs.  Brooksbanks,  who  fairly  and  unsparingly  attacked 
the  actor  for  his  mannerisms  and  various  defects.  After  a  reply 
from  Miss  Rees,  the  original  motion  was  put  to  the  ladies,  and 
was  carried  by  a  slender  majority.  The  actor  must  have  read 
these  proceedings,  which  were  flattering  enough,  with  much 
enjoyment. 


152  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 


the  greatest  care  and  deliberation.  The  Ameri- 
can manager,  Abbey,  who  had  undertaken  the 
direction  of  the  venture,  and  had  a  vast  store  of 
experience  and  skill  at  command,  planned,  of 
course,  the  arrangements  of  the  visit  ;  but  the 
purely  theatrical  details  were  thrown  upon  the 
English  actor,  who  had  to  equip  completely  some 
dozen  plays  with  scenery,  dresses,  and  properties. 
A  following  of  from  seventy  to  a  hundred  persons — 
including  actors,  actresses,  secretaries,  scenic  and 
music  artists,  dressers,  supernumeraries — was  to  be 
taken  out.^  Further,  with  a  view  to  making  the 
company  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  repertoire, 
for  months  beforehand  a  sort  of  continuous  re- 
hearsal went  on  before  the  regular  Lyceum  audi- 
ences ;  that  is,  all  the  stock-pieces  were  revived 
one  after  the  other,  and  performed  with  much  care. 
The  honours  and  flatterinsf  tributes  that  were  now 
lavished  on  the  departing  actor  would  have  turned 
the  head  of  one  less  sensible  or  less  unspoiled. 
The  town  seemed  really  to  have  "  run  horn-mad  " 
after  him,  and  could  talk  of  nothing  but  of  him  and 
his  expedition.  As  was  to  be  expected,  the  compli- 
ment of  a  public  dinner  was  the  smallest  of  these 
tributes.  Presents  and  invitations  were  lavished 
upon  him.      In  a  caricature  he  was  shown  as  being 

^  An  idea  of  what  a  "  tremendous  "  business  this  was  may  be 
gathered  from  a  single  detail.  A  well-known  experienced  wig. 
maker  from  Covent  Garden,  with  two  assistants,  was  engaged  to 
look  after  the  coiffures  of  the  company,  and  these  "artists  in 
hair  "  had  under  their  charge  a  collection  of  wigs,  entirely  new, 
no  fewer  than  eleven  hundred  in  number.  On  a  later  visit  there 
were  fifteen  hundred  ! 


TESTIMONIALS  153 

profusely  anointed,  by  critics  and  others,  from  a  tub 
filled  with  a  composition  labelled  "butter."  In 
another  the  Prince  of  Wales  is  obsequiously  pre- 
senting an  invitation,  which  the  actor  excuses 
himself  from  accepting  owing  to  "  my  many 
engagements."  The  most  famous  portrait-painter 
of  the  day  begged  to  be  allowed  to  paint  his  pic- 
ture, which  he  wished  to  offer  as  a  present  to  the 
Garrick  Club.'  Rumours  were  busily  circulated — 
and  contradicted — that  a  knighthood  had  been 
offered  and  declined. 

The  public  dinner  at  St.  James's  Hall  was  fixed 
for  July  4 — a  compliment  to  the  American  people. 
The  list  of  stewards  was  truly  extraordinary,  com- 
prising almost  every  one  of  mark  in  the  arts  and 
the  great  professions.  The  Chief  Justice,  Lord 
Coleridge,  who  was  himself  setting  out  for  a 
tour  in  the  States,  was  to  take  the  chair.  Mr. 
Gladstone  and  some  Cabinet  Ministers  were  on 
the  committee.     There  were  three  thousand  appli- 

'  Where  it  now  hangs  over  the  chimneypiece  in  the  Guests' 
Room.  It  is  not  so  successful  as  many  others  of  Millais'  works  ; 
it  is  rather  sketchily  painted,  and  lacks  force  and  expression. 
The  late  Mr.  Long  painted  the  actor  as  Hamlet  and  Richard  IIL 
They  are  not  very  striking  performances,  but  they  are  refined 
and  interesting  portraits.  Mr.  Whistler  produced  an  extra- 
ordinary one  of  him  as  Philip  II.,  strangely  "shadowy"  but 
powerful,  and  of  preternatural  length.  A  number  of  artists  of 
less  pretension  have  also  essayed  to  limn  the  actor ;  but  all  have 
failed  to  sketch  the  mobile,  delicate  expression  of  the  lips. 
Boldly  daring,  I  myself  have  fashioned  a  bust  of  him  in  terra- 
cotta. For  this  he  gave  me  sittings  in  the  year  1876,  when  he 
was  only  37.  There  is  an  ugly  bust  of  him  also  done  about  this 
time. 


154  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

cants  for  the  five  hundred  possible  seats,  all  that 
Mr.  Pinches,  the  secretary — a  relation  of  the  actor's 
old  master — could  contrive  to  supply.  Two  Bishops 
excused  their  attendance  in  flattering  terms,  and 
Mr.  Gladstone  would  gladly  have  attended,  but  was 
compelled  by  his  duties  to  be  absent.'  At  this 
banquet,  beside  the  Chief  Justice  and  the  Lord 
Chancellor  of  Ireland,  there  were  five  other  judges 
present,  together  with  all  that  was  distinguished  in 
the  professions  and  arts. 

The  Chairman,  in  a  thoughtful  and  studied 
speech,  delivered  perhaps  one  of  the  best  apologias 
for  the  actor  that  is  ever  likely  to  be  offered.  The 
skill  and  moderation  of  the  accomplished  advocate 
was  shown  to  perfection ;  he  did  not  adulate, 
but  gave  the  actor  a  graduated  and  judicious 
measure  of  praise  for  all  he  had  done  in  the 
improvement  in  the  general  tone,  morals,  and 
methods  of  the  stage.  Irving  acknowledged  these 
compliments  in  grateful  and  heartfelt  terms,  ad- 
dressed not  so  much  to  the  diners  present  as  to 
the  kingdom  in  creneral. 

After  these  metropolitan  honours,  he  passed  to 
Edinburgh,  Glasgow,  and  Liverpool.     At  each  city 


'  It  is  said  that  the  origin  of  the  acquaintance  between  Irving 
and  this  statesman  was  an  accidental  encounter  in  the  street, 
when  the  latter,  with  a  sympathetic  impulsiveness,  stopped 
Irving  and  introduced  himself.  Later,  he  was  an  assiduous 
frequenter  of  the  Lyceum,  and  in  his  eighty-third  year  was  seen 
in  the  stalls  or  behind  the  scenes,  in  a  little  special  corner, 
near  the  prompter's  box,  following  the  course  of '  Henry  VIII.' 
with  unabated  interest. 


FIRST  PLAY  IN  AMERICA  155 

he  was  greeted  with  complimentary  banquets.  At 
Edinburgh  he  opened  a  new  theatre,  named  in  com- 
pliment to  his  own,  the  Lyceum.  He  was  invited 
to  Hawarden  by  Mr.  Gladstone,  and  also  to  Knows- 
ley  by  Lord  Derby. 

On  October  lo,  1883,  the  chief  members  of  the 
company — over  forty  in  number — sailed  for  New 
York,  under  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Bram  Stoker. 
Tons  of  scenery,  dresses,  properties,  &c.,  had  been 
already  shipped.  The  following  day  Irving  and 
Miss  Terry  embarked  on  board  the  White  Star 
liner,  The  Britannic.  Up  to  the  last  moment 
telegrams  and  letters  containing  good  wishes  (liter- 
ally by  hundreds)  were  being  brought  in.  Even 
while  the  vessel  was  detained  at  Oueenstown,  the 
Mayor  and  Corporation  of  Cork  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity of  saluting  him  with  a  parting  address.  The 
incidents  have  been  all  described  by  my  friend 
Mr.  Joseph  Hatton,  who  attended  the  party  as 
"historiographer";  and  I  may  refer  the  reader  to 
his  interesting  volumes. 

The  visit  was  to  prove  one  long  triumph,  and  the 
six  months'  progress  a  strange,  wonderful  phantas- 
magoria of  receptions,  entertainments,  hospitalities 
of  all  kinds.  Novel  and  original,  too,  were  the 
humours  and  fashions  that  greeted  them  every- 
where, and  the  eyes  of  the  two  players  must 
have  often  turned  back  with  pleasure  to  that  odd 
pantomime. 

'  The  Bells  '  was  selected  for  his  first  perform- 
ance, which  was  on  October  29,  1883.  Though 
his  reception   was    overpowering    and    tumultuous, 


156  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

there  was  some  hesitation  as  to  the  success  of  the 
play  itself,  and  the  critics  seemed  to  be  a  little 
doubtful  as  to  whether  it  fairly  represented  the 
full  measure  of  his  gifts.  'Charles  I.',  however, 
followed,  and  the  two  great  artists  made  the  pro- 
foundest  impression.  But  when  '  Louis  XL'  and 
'  Much  Ado  About  Nothing  '  were  presented,  all 
doubts  vanished.  Such  things  were  all  probably 
new  to  them.  Miss  Terry  won  all  hearts  ;  her  sym- 
pathetic style  and  winsome  ways  made  conquest  of 
every  audience.  It  might  be  almost  said  that  s/ie 
was  his  loadstar.  Nothinor  struck  the  Americans 
with  such  astonishment  as  the  exquisite  arrangement 
and  "stage  management"  of  the  Shakespearian 
comedy,  the  reserved  yet  effectively  harmonious 
treatment  of  all  the  details  being  a  complete 
revelation.  The  actor's  consummate  taste  was 
recognised ;  in  fact,  the  result  of  the  visit  was 
a  complete  revolution  in  all  the  American  stage 
methods.  The  extraordinary  record  of  lavish 
hospitalities,  tributes  of  all  kinds,  with  the  adven- 
tures, is  set  forth  fully  in  the  story  of  the  tour.  But 
it  is  only  by  consulting  the  American  journals  that 
we  can  gather  a  notion  of  the  odd  "humours,"  often 
grotesque,  by  which  the  American  public  displays 
its  enthusiastic  approbation. I  The  "interviewers," 
as  may  be  imagined,  were  rampant,  and  extracted 
from  the  genial  and  courteous  actor  opinions  on 
everything  connected  with  his  profession.  One 
immortal    criticism   deserves    to  be  recorded  here. 

'  These  newspapers   were   sent   to    me   without   interruption 
during  all  his  tours  by  Irving's  direction. 


AMERICAN  VISIT  157 

'He  has  rung,"  said  a  newspaper,  ''the  knell  of 
gibbering  Gosh  !  "  ^ 

The  party  remained  in  the  country  until  the  May 
of  the  year  following.  The  receipts  exceeded  every 
forecast,  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars  having  been 
taken  in  the  first  four  weeks.  But  the  expenses 
were  enormous.  The  substantial  profit  was  found 
in  Irving's  securing  a  new,  vast,  and  prominent 
audience  in  the  West  ;  in  his  winning  the  suffrages 
of  Americans  abroad  as  well  as  of  those  at  home, 
who  became  his  most  fervent  adherents. 

The  followinof  is  an  amusingf  scene.  "  Irvino-  had 
been  invited  to  the  Journalists'  Club,  and  after  the 
close  of  the  performance  of  '  Louis  XI.,'  the  actor 

'  A  description  of  a  "  first-night  "  at  the  Opera  House  is  worth 
quoting : — 

"  Ladies  took  their  place  in  line  and  waited  for  hours  to  get 
tickets  for  the  opening  performance.  The  face  of  the  tall  and 
genial  Bram  Stoker,  Mr.  Irving's  agent,  wore  a  broad  smile  as, 
standing  in  the  vestibule,  he  noticed  the  swelling  crowd  passing 
between  the  continually  swinging  doors.  The  array  of  regular 
first-nighters  was  up  to  the  notch,  and  all  the  familiar  faces,  not 
only  those  most  looked  for  with  the  lorgnettes,  but  those  that 
vanish  between  the  acts,  were  there.  Tall  Tom  Donaldson,  one 
of  Blaine's  lieutenants,  whose  wife  and  daughter  were  in  one  of 
the  boxes,  was  leaning  against  the  wall  talking  to  Judge  William 
Haydon,  formerly  of  Nevada,  one  of  the  oldest  theatre-goers  in 
the  United  States,  who  saw  Edmund  Kean  play  Hamlet,  and 
thinks  Irving  the  best  actor  he  has  seen  since.  Joseph  F.  Tobias, 
ruddy,  genial,  and  Chesterfieldian  as  ever,  was  shaking  hands  at 
every  turn,  and  L.  Clark  Davis,  in  immaculate  evening  dress  and 
pearl  studs,  but  with  the  inevitable  Bohemian  hat,  was  the  centre 
of  a  chatty  group.  Charles  E.  Cramp  and  Horace  Warding  were 
talking  to  Dr.  Thomas  H.  Andrews,  who  has  the  largest  theatrical 
practice  of  any  physician  in  Philadelphia,  and  has  been  called  to 


158  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

had  come  round  to  the  club,  where  he  partook  of  a 
supper  tendered  to  him  by  a  few  members  in  a 
private  room.  He  had  been  in  the  building  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour  before  he  made  known  his 
presence  by  coming  upstairs,  escorted  by  several 
gendemen.  The  guest  of  the  evening  then  held 
an  informal  reception. 

"  After  he  had  said  something  pleasant  to  almost 
every  one,  he  volunteered  to  do  his  share  towards 
entertaining  those  present.  It  had  been  slighdy 
hinted  to  him  that  something  of  the  kind  was 
looked  for,  and  he  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the 
occasion.     Then  the  great  tragedian  turned   from 


attend  half  the  stars  who  have  appeared  here  in  recent  years. 
Almost   every  well-known   first-nighter  was   on   hand,  and   the 
invariable   sentiment   was   that  this   was   the  big  event  of  the 
present  year.     There  were  many  well-known  people  who  are  not 
often  seen  at  the  theatre,  notably  Daniel  M.  Fox,  Director  of  the 
Mint,  who  sat  in  the  centre  aisle,  near  the  stage,  with  a  party  of 
friends,  and  appeared  to  enjoy  the  performance  very  much.     Just 
back  of  him  was  a  large  party  from  Bethlehem,  Pa.   John  R.  Jones, 
the  Bible  publisher,  had  with  him  Miss  Jones,  in  a  stunning  grey 
imported   costume,    one   of   the   most   artistic   in   the   theatre. 
Robert  W.  Downing  had  quite  a  party.     There  were  several  large 
theatrical  parties.     The  most  noticeable  was  the  one  given  by 
Miss  K.  N.  Green,  which  included  many  attractive  ladies.     Ex- 
Attorney-General  Brewster  was  the  centre  of  quite  a  large  party 
in  the  orchestra,  including  several  ladies.     A  very  beautiful  bevy 
was  the  party  given  by  Miss  Hattie  Fox,  daughter  of  George  S. 
Fox,  which  numbered   thirty-five.     They  all   had  seats  in   the 
orchestra  circle.     Some  of  the  most  fashionable  people  had  to  be 
content  with  seats  upstairs,  and  there  was  one  party  of  young 
ladies  in  the  family  circle  who  were  in  full  dress  and  went  direct 
in  carriages,  at  the  close  of  the  performance,  to  the  dancing- 
class." 


AMERICAN  VISIT  159 

the  serious  to  the  comic.  He  recited,  in  a  way 
that  provoked  roars  of  laughter,  the  funny  little 
poem,   'Tommy's  First  Love.' 

"When  this  was  over  there  was  a  unanimous 
shout,  which  lasted  several  minutes.  It  was  a 
loud  cry  for  more.  Mr.  Irving  expressed  his  will- 
ingness to  give  another  recitation,  and  called  for 
a  chair.  After  sitting  down  he  observed  that,  as 
all  were  standing,  those  in  the  rear  could  see  but 
indifferently.  '  Suppose  we  change  the  stage  man- 
agement,' he  suggested.  '  Can't  we  all  sit  down  ? ' 
This  was  received  with  some  merriment,  as  there 
were  few  chairs  in  the  room.  Some  one,  however, 
saw  Mr.  Irvine's  idea  that  those  in  the  front  ranks 
should  sit  upon  the  floor,  and  in  a  moment  the  four 
foremost  lines  were  kneeling  upon  the  carpet. 

"  Mr.  Irvinor  then  recited  '  Eucrene  Aram's 
Dream.'  The  splendid  elocutionary  talents  of  the 
actor  kept  the  audience  spellbound.  Every  emo- 
tion, every  pang  of  the  schoolmaster  was  vividly 
depicted  by  the  expressive  face  of  the  tragedian. 
The  scene  was  a  remarkable  one.  Mr.  Irving 
threw  himself  so  earnestly  into  the  character  that 
at  one  time  he  tore  the  white  necktie  fro7n  his  throat 
without  realising  what  he  was  doing,  and,  as  his 
features  were  wrought  up  to  show  the  usher's 
agony,  similar  lines  seemed  to  show  themselves 
by  sympathy  in  the  faces  of  those  present.  At 
the  close  of  recitation  the  motionless  figures,  some 
standing,  some  sitting  with  crossed  legs  upon  the 
floor,  became  moving,  enthusiastic  men.  Those 
on   their   feet   threw    their   arms   into  the  air  and 


160  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

cheered  as  if  for  dear  life,  while  those  on  the 
floor  bounded  up  simultaneously  and  expressed 
their  enthusiasm.  It  was  some  time  before  the 
excitement  subsided. 

"  '  I  recited  that  once  to  a  friend  of  mine,'  said 
Mr.  Irving,  after  quiet  had  been  restored,  'and 
what  do  you  think  he  said  ?  Why,  he  seriously 
exclaimed  :  "There  is  one  point  in  that  story  that 
I'd  like  to  know  about.  What  became  of  the  boy?''' 
This  anecdote  produced  a  chorus  of  laughter. 
After  shaking  hands  all  round,  Mr.  Irving  went 
downstairs  and  out,  accompanied  by  the  club's 
officers.  Before  he  left  the  room,  '  Three  cheers 
for  Mr.  Irving  '  were  called  for  and  given  by 
throats  already  hoarse  with  applauding  him." 


CHAPTER  XII 

1884 

'  TWELFTH    NIGHT  ' — '  THE    VICAR     OF     WAKEFIELD  ' 

OXFORD    HONOURS 

ON  July  8,  1884,  a  few  weeks  after  the  return 
to  London,  'Twelfth  Night  '  was  brought 
out  at  the  Lyceum,  and,  for  luxury  of  scenery, 
dresses,  and  mounting,  fully  equalled  all  its  pre- 
decessors. Irving  was,  of  course,  the  Malvolio, 
which  he  rendered  not  exactly  after  Charles  Lamb's 
interpretation,  but,  indeed,  as  any  one  of  Shake- 
spearian intelligence  would  have  done,  never  lapsing 
into  farce,  but  treating  the  whole  earnestly.  It  was 
a  beautiful  and  graceful  show,  full  of  alternate  sym- 
pathy and  humour.  Personally  we  look  back  to  it 
as  one  of  the  most  welcome  and  interesting  of  his 
revivals  ;  all  the  incidents  connected  with  Viola,  so 
charmingly  interpreted  by  Ellen  Terry,  have  an 
irresistible  and  touching  interest.  The  scenery  was 
costly  and  exquisite,  and  reflected  the  tone  of  the 
piece.  The  audience,  however,  listened  with  a 
somewhat  languid  interest — some  said  because  of 

12  161 


162  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

the  oppressive  heat  of  a  July  night,  which  fretted 
and  put  them  out  of  humour  ;  but  I  believe  because 
they  were  unfamiliar  with  the  piece,  and  had  not 
been  "  educated  up  to  it."  When  the  manager 
came  out  at  the  close,  with  all  the  good-humour 
and  freedom  of  a  privileged  favourite,  he  was 
confounded  to  find  his  expressions  of  self-con- 
gratulation and  satisfaction  greeted  with  uncouth 
denial  and  interruptions.  He  was  not  accustomed 
to  such  coarse  reception,  and  with  much  spirit 
he  administered  this  well-deserved  chastisement  : 
"  I  can't  understand  how  a  company  of  earnest 
comedians  and  admirable  actors,  having  these 
three  cardinal  virtues  of  actors  —  being  sober, 
clean,  and  perfect — and  having  exercised  their 
abilities  on  one  of  the  most  difficult  plays,  can 
have  given  any  cause  for  dissatisfaction."  But 
there  are  curious  idiosyncrasies  in  audiences,  one 
of  which  is,  as  I  have  noted,  that  they  must  be 
in  some  way  familiar  with  the  piece  and  its  inci- 
dents ;  and  there  must  be  broad,  comprehensive 
types  of  character.  Now,  Malvolio,  one  of  the 
most  delicately  exquisite  of  conceptions,  it  could 
be  seen,  was  quite  unintelligible  to  "the  general": 
they  took  him  for  some  "crank,"  or  half-cracked 
being,  appearing  in  his  nightcap,  &c.  Sir  Toby 
and  Sir  Andrew  and  their  rollickings  were  actually 
thought  "low  "or  vulgar,  on  the  same  principle  that 
Tony  Lumpkin's  alehouse  friend  could  not  abide 
anything  low.  So  much  for  the  ignorant,  ill-man- 
nered section  of  the  audience. 

It  was  argued,    indeed,   by  critics    that   Irving's 


'TWELFTH  NIGHT'  163 

Malvolio  was  somewhat  too  much  in  earnest,  and 
therefore  was  Hable  to  be  accepted  by  the  audience 
as  a  serious  person,  actually  in  love  with  his  mis- 
tress, and  this,  with  his  eccentricities  and  oddities, 
became  an  impertinence.  Whereas,  as  Lamb  says, 
by  imparting  a  quaint  humorousness  the  audience 
sees  the  absurdity  of  the  jest  and  is  amused.  Elia, 
indeed,  always  insists  that  the  actor  of  such  "  fan- 
tastical "  parts  should  hint  to  the  audience,  slily  as 
it  were,  that  he  is  only  half  in  earnest. 

A  most  delightful  sense  of  pure  natural  comedy 
was  induced  by  the  likeness  between  the  Terrys, 
brother  and  sister,  who  had  a  sort  of  Shakespearian 
elegance  in  their  bearinc^.  But  this  did  not  avail 
much  with  the  uncultured  crowd.  It  was  objected 
also  that  the  play  was  set  forth  somewhat  pedanti- 
cally and  too  much  au  grand  sdrieux,  many  of  the 
actors,  not  being  comedians — witness  Mr.  Terriss — 
imparting  a  literal  tone  to  all  they  said  and  did. 
This  was  not  without  its  effect  on  the  audience, 
who  by  the  very  promise  of  seriousness  were 
beguiled  into  expecting  something  serious.  Irving 
himself  was  not  wholly  free  from  this  method ;  and 
in  the  strange  scene  of  the  imprisonment,  so  difficult 
to  "carry  off,"  he  was  deeply  tragic,  as  if  really 
suffering,  and  without  any  underlying  grotesque- 
ness.  His  exit,  too,  with  solemn  menaces,  had  the 
air  of  retributive  punishment  in  store.' 

^  As  the  world  knows,  it  was  given  with  great  effect  and  popu- 
larity at  His  Majesty's  Theatre.  I  am  afraid,  owing  to  extreme 
farcical  treatment,  the  judicious  wondered  and  grieved  as  they 
saw    Malvolio    enter,    preceded   by   half   a   dozen   serving-men 


164  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

Now  followed  a  second  expedition  to  the  States, 
as  well  as  to  Canada,  the  details  of  which  I  pass 
over.  On  the  reopening  of  his  theatre  on  his  return 
a  rather  disagreeable  episode  occurred,  connected 
with  an  alteration  he  had  made  in  the  arrangements 
of  his  house.  It  was  announced  that  places  in  the 
pit  might  be  reserved  and  secured  in  advance,  which 
gave  rise  to  indignant  protest  and  to  cries  of  "  Give 
us  back  our  PUT  The  question  was  warmly  dis- 
cussed in  the  newspapers.  The  advantage  of 
the  debate  was  that  it  clearly  established  a  true 
theatrical  principle — viz.,  that  pit  and  galleries  are 
intended  for  the  crowd,  and  should  be  free  and 
open  to  the  "  man  in  the  street "  :  that  the  best 
seats  here  must  be  the  prize  of  the  strongest  and 
most  patient.  The  principle  of  numbering  and 
booking,  it  was  shown,  would  actually  abolish  the 
pit.  The  judicious  manager  understood  and  recog- 
nised the  public  discontent,  and  made  announce- 
ment that  on  May  i8th  he  would  restore  the  old 
custom. 

In  accordance  with  his  engagement  he  now  pro- 
ceeded to  get  ready  Wills's  pleasing  and  sympa- 
thetic drama,  '  Olivia.'  This  was  no  doubt  selected 
with  a  view  to  furnishing  a  fresh  opportunity  for 
the  display  of  Miss  Terry's  magic  attraction  ;  but 
it  will  be  seen  that  she  was  not  to  be  altogether  the 
cynosure  of  the  whole,  and  that  two  other  accom- 

stepping  in  time  to  a  comic  tune  !  These  were  graduated  in  size 
so  as  to  produce  due  pantomimic  effect.  Mr.  Tree,  to  receive 
the  ng,  held  out  his  long  stick  of  office,  on  which  it  was  made 
to  slide  up  to  his  hand  ! 


Ikvini;  as  "'riii;   \'i(AF(,"  AND  Ei.i.EN  Tkrkv  as  "Olivia. 
J'lwto  by  Wtmloiv  &  Grove. 


Til /dec  p     Ifi.T. 


'THE  VICAR   OF  WAKEFIELD'  165 

plished  performers  were  to  share  the  honours  of 
the  piece.  It  was  produced  on  May  27,  1885,  and 
excited  much  interest.  The  Vicar  had  been  ad- 
mirably performed  by  Vezin — on  the  old  conven- 
tional lines  of  the  kindly  but  "  heavy"  father,  and  it 
became  interesting  to  contrast  the  two  styles.  The 
creation  of  Dr.  Primrose  is  one  of  the  most  de- 
lightful and  most  oriofinal  of  Irvino-'s  characters.  It 
is  elaborated  and  finished  to  the  very  highest  point, 
and  yet  there  is  no  lack  of  simplicity  or  unaffected 
grace.  The  character  suited  him  in  every  way,  and 
seemed  to  hold  completely  in  check  all  his  little 
"mannerisms,"  as  they  are  called.  There  was  a 
sort  of  Meissonnier  delicacy  in  his  touches,  and 
scarcely  any  other  of  his  characters  was  so  filled  in 
and  rounded  with  unspoken  acting — that  is,  by  the 
play  of  facial  expression,  gesture,  walk,  &c.  It 
was,  indeed,  a  delightful  performance,  and  always 
held  the  audience,  which  attentively  followed  the 
Vicar's  successive  emotions.  These  the  actor 
allowed  unconsciously,  as  it  were,  to  escape  him, 
as  he  pursues  his  little  domestic  course  unconscious 
of  spectators.  One  reason  for  this  complete  success 
was,  of  course,  that  Irving,  like  so  many  others,  had 
read,  known,  and  felt  this  engaging  character  from 
his  childhood,  altogether  outside  dramatic  condi- 
tions, though  of  course  it  is  not  every  play  that 
enjoys  this  advantage. 

As  we  look  back  to  the  Lyceum,  the  eye  rests 
with  infinite  pleasure  on  the  engaging  figure  of  the 
Vicar,  with  his  powdered  wig  and  rusted  suit,  and 
that  amiable  smile  of  simplicity  which   betokened 


166  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

what  agreeable  fancies  were  occupying  his  mind. 
There  was  he.  centre  of  a  happy  family,  content 
with  the  happiness  of  his  wife  and  children.  No 
picture  could  have  been  prettier.  With  an  exqui- 
site feeling  of  propriety,  the  quaint,  antique  associa- 
tions were  developed,  and  no  more  pleasing  scene 
could  have  been  conceived,  nor  one  that  lingers 
more  in  the  memory,  than  the  scene  at  night,  when 
the  family  are  singing  at  the  spinet,  Moses  accom- 
panying with  his  flute,  ^  the  Vicar  in  his  chair,  the 
cuckoo-clock  in  the  corner.  It  was  a  fine  instinct 
that  directed  these  things. 

It  should  be  added  that  the  piece  had  been  some- 
what altered  from  its  first  shape,  and  no  doubt 
gained  from  the  manager's  suggestions.  One  of 
the  most  astonishing  things  connected  with  it  is 
the  admirably  firm  and  coherent  construction,  it 
being  laid  out  in  the  most  effective  way.  The 
various  characters  are  introduced  with  singular 
skill.  The  last  act  seemed,  indeed,  somewhat  super- 
fluous and  too  much  drawn  out  ;  but  the  whole 
design  was  really  admirable. 

This  play  of  Wills's  was  always  for  me  an 
unsolved  and  most  perplexing  thing ;  it  is  so  work- 
manlike, so  artistic,  so  full  of  nature  and  admirable 
character-drawing,     that    it    seemed    incredible    it 

'  When  the  piece  was  first  given  at  the  Court  Theatre  there 
was  a  bit  of  reaUsm  that  was  almost  too  conscientious.  The 
httle  family  music  was  accompanied  on  a  genuine  old  harpsi- 
chord, which,  it  was  gravely  announced  in  the  bill,  was  actually 
dated  1768,  about  the  period  of  the  novel,  and  was,  of  course, 
"  kindly  lent "  by  the  owner. 


Ir\ing  as  "The  Vicar"  in  "Olivia. 
Photo  by  VVindoii/  &  Grove. 


To  face  t>    107. 


'THE   VICAR   OF   WAKEFIELD'  167 

should  have  come  from  his  hand.  In  his  other 
pieces  there  is  a  sort  of  incoherence,  almost  childish 
at  times,  with  an  insistence  on  trivial  points.  Could 
it  be  that  some  secret  coadjutor  helped  him,  or  was 
it  some  ingeniously  adapted  French  play  ^  If  not, 
it  was  a  marvel,  truly,  and  its  author  deserves 
infinite  credit. 

It  was  poor  Wills's  fate  to  have  alternating 
**ups  and  downs" — reverses  and  triumphs — in  his 
playwriting.  Two  of  his  sensational  pieces  still 
keep  the  stage,  and  are  constantly  travelling  round 
the  country,  to  wit,  '  Jane  Shore  '  and  that  capital 
Napoleonic  drama  '  A  Royal  Divorce.'  The  suc- 
cess of  the  latter  he  did  not  live  to  witness.  I  have 
seen  him,  when  he  was  writing  to  the  actor's  mea- 
sure, take  out  an  envelope  on  which  he  had  scrib- 
bled some  half  a  dozen  verses,  and  recite  the  same 
to  the  great  man,  as  part  of  an  intended  speech. 
And,  strange  to  say,  the  other  listened  with  pleasure 
and  approbation. 

Such  tales  as  these — world-wide  stories  that 
belong-  to  all  countries  and  to  all  time — Shake- 
spearian,  in  short — seem  on  repetition  to  have  the 
air  of  novelty  ;  at  least,  they  always  interest.  The 
situations  are  dramatic,  and  the  characters  even 
more  dramatic  than  the  situations.  Miss  Terry's 
Olivia  is  not  only  one  of  her  best  characters,  but  is 
a  most  touchingly  graceful  and  varied  performance. 
The  gifted  pair  were  indeed  at  their  best  here.  In 
the  excellently-contrived  scene  at  the  "  Dragon," 
Miss  Terry's  transition  of  horror,  astonishment, 
rage,    shame,    succeeding    each    other,    were    dis- 


168  SIR    HENRY  IRVING 

played  with  extraordinary  force  and  variety.  Some 
insisted  that  the  part  suffered  from  her  restlessness, 
but,  as  it  was  happily  said,  "  She  is  for  ever  flicker- 
ing about  the  stage  in  a  series  of  poses,  or  rather 
disturbance  of  pose,  each  in  itself  so  charming  that 
one  can  hardly  account  for  the  distrust  she  herself 
shows  of  it  by  instantly  changing  it  for  another," 
The  other  characters  were  no  less  excellent  in  their 
way.  Terriss,  as  the  Squire,  was  admirably  suited, 
his  very  defect — an  excessively  pronounced  brusque- 
ness — adding  to  the  effect.  It  was  said  at  the  time 
in  the  theatre  that  there  was  only  the  one  performer 
for  Thornhill,  and  that  one  Terriss.  He — and  he 
only — must  be  secured.  He  never  performed  so 
well  as  in  this  character. 

A  year  later  there  occurred  what  must  have  been 
one  of  the  most  gratifying  incidents  in  the  actor's 
career,  and  one  of  the  most  pleasant  to  recall.  The 
Oxford  commencements,  held  on  June  26,  1886, 
were  more  than  usually  brilliant.  At  that  time  the 
late  learned  and  popular  Dr.  Jowett  was  Vice- 
Chancellor,  a  man,  as  was  well  known,  of  the  largest 
sympathies.  Though  a  divine,  he  took  a  deep 
interest  in  Irving  and  his  profession.  On  its  being 
proposed  to  confer  honorary  degrees  on  certain  dis- 
tinguished guests,  including  Mr.  John  Bright,  the 
Vice-Chancellor,  it  is  said,  suggested  the  name  of 
the  well-known  actor.  There  was  something,  as 
I  say,  dramatic  or  characteristic  in  this  proposal, 
coming,  as  it  did,  from  so  expressive  a  personality. 
The  University,  however,  was  not  prepared  to  go  so 
far  as  this,  though  the  proposal  was  only  negatived, 


OXFORD   HONOURS  169 

it  is  said,  by  a  narrow  majority  of  two  votes.  The 
vigorous  purpose  of  the  Vice-Chancellor  was  not  to 
be  thus  baffled,  and  by  a  brilliant  cottp  he  contrived 
that  the  very  omission  of  the  actor's  name — like  the 
absence  of  one  portrait  from  a  series — should  sug- 
gest that  the  chief  performer  had  been  "left"  out, 
and  thus  supplied  a  fresh  element  in  the  brilliancy 
of  his  reception.  He  invited  him  to  deliver  a 
lecture  on  his  art  in  the  very  precincts  of  the 
University,  and  under  the  patronage  of  its  most 
distinguished  professors  and  "  Heads."  It  may 
be  conceived  that  the  figure  of  the  popular  player 
became  the  cynosure  of  attraction  in  the  brilliant 
academic  show. 

"  For  when  the  well-grac'd  actor  quits  the  scene, 
The  eyes  of  men  are  idly  bent  on  him 
That  enters  next." 

When  it  became  known  that  the  actor  was  to 
give  his  address,  every  one  of  note  and  culture  and 
importance  in  the  place  rushed  to  secure  seats. 
Some  fourteen  hundred  persons  were  present,  with 
most  of  "  the  Heads  of  Houses,"  and  distinguished 
professors.  Dr.  Jowett  welcomed  him  in  some 
warm  and  well-chosen  phrases,  telling  him  how 
much  honoured  they  felt  by  his  coming  to  them. 
A  good  English  actor,  he  said  happily  enough, 
lived  in  the  best  company — that  of  Goethe  and 
Shakespeare  ;  and,  coming  from  such,  he  might 
seem  to  convey  that  he  was  good  enough  company 
for  them. 

But   during   the    year     1892    the    University   of 


170  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

Dublin  was  the  first  to  recognise  officially  the 
actor's  position,  and  at  the  celebration  of  its  ter- 
centenary conferred  on  him  the  degree  of  Doctor 
of  Letters,  in  company  with  many  distinguished 
men.  Indeed,  Irving's  sympathetic  temperament 
has  always  been  specially  acceptable  to  this  Uni- 
versity, and  the  youths  of  Trinity  College  from  the 
beginning  were  eager  to  exhibit  their  appreciation 
and  admiration  of  his  talent.  They  would  attend 
him  home  from  the  theatre  in  uproarious  procession, 
and  sing  songs  in  his  praise  in  the  galleries.  So 
early  as  June,  1877,  he  had  given  a  reading  in  the 
University  in  its  great  Examination  Hall.  The 
Provost,  the  Dean,  and  other  "  dons  "  all  attended. 
He  gave  'Richard  HI.,'  a  chapter  of  "David 
Copperfield,"  and  '  Eugene  Aram.'  An  illumi- 
nated address  was  presented  to  him,  and  to  make 
the  day  truly  festive  and  collegiate,  the  actor  dined 
in  the  hall,  the  guest  of  the  college,  and  went  his 
way  covered  with  honours. 

Later  came  the  turn  of  Edinburgh,  where  he 
was  much  considered,  and  in  1881  delivered  a 
lecture  before  the  Edinburgh  Philosophical  Insti- 
tute. He  gave,  also,  an  interesting  lecture  on 
Acting  at  the  Royal  Institution  in  London.  With 
pleasure,  too,  must  he  have  looked  back  to  his 
welcome  at  Harvard  University.  The  novelty  of 
the  scene,  the  warm  welcome  accorded  to  him  in 
a  strange  land,  must  have  made  a  most  welcome 
form  of  honour.  He  delivered  a  lecture  on  the 
"  Art  of  Acting  " — his  favourite  topic — in  the  great 
Sande's    Theatre,    into   which   over   two    thousand 


'FAUST'  171 

persons  were  crowded — the  usual  audience  was 
sixteen  hundred.  An  enormous  crowd  blocked  the 
doors,  so  that  the  actor  on  his  arrival  could  not 
gain  admittance,  and  had  to  be  taken  in  by  a  sub- 
terranean passage.  The  president  was  in  a  con- 
spicuous place,  and  all  the  professors  and  dons 
attended.  Another  American  University,  that  of 
Cambridge,  also  invited  him  to  lecture  (rather  to 
give  instruction)  before  them,  and  the  newspapers 
of  the  country  declared  that  the  honours  with  which 
he  was  welcomed  were  really  "  unprecedented." 
Ao^ain  he  discoursed  on  the  "  Art  of  Acting^."  An 
even  more  flattering  and  unusual  compliment  was 
the  invitation  to  the  Military  Academy  at  West- 
point,  where,  with  his  company,  he  performed  '  The 
Merchant  of  Venice '  in  Elizabethan  dresses,  but 
without  scenery — to  the  huge  enjoyment  of  profes- 
sors and  students.  Here  is  a  round  of  University 
distinctions  that  has  never  fallen  to  the  lot  of  any 
other  actor.  We  may  see  in  it  an  instinctive  recog- 
nition of  a  cultured  and  artistic  feelino'  that  has 
influenced  the  community  and  done  excellent  educa- 
tional service. 

Irving  had  long  wished  to  display  his  sardonic 
power  in  Goethe's  great  character  of  Mephis- 
topheles.  He  had  already  given  proof  of  his 
quality  in  this  line  in  Louis  XI.  and  Richard  III.  ; 
but  there  was  the  satirical  piquancy  and  range  in 
Mephistopheles  which  naturally  offered  him  an 
attraction,  from  the  mixture  of  the  comic  or  gro- 
tesque with  deep  tragic  force.  It  also  offered  room 
for  a  superb  and  almost  unlimited  display  of  scenic 


172  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

magnificence.  It  was  no  secret,  too,  that  in  this 
particular  display  he  was  resolved  to  surpass  all  his 
previous  efforts. 

To  Wills  was  entrusted  the  work  of  preparing 
the  adaptation,  this  writer  having,  as  I  said,  a 
command  of  flowing  and  melodious  versification, 
which,  moreover,  was  fitted  to  the  actor's  delivery. 
The  adapter  had  completed  his  task  many  years 
before,  and  the  piece  had  long  lain  in  the 
manager's  desk.  During  this  period  he  let  his 
conception  of  the  piece  slowly  ripen ;  he  discussed 
it  with  scholars  ;  thought  over  it ;  while  the  adapter, 
a  German  student  himself,  revised  his  work  at 
intervals,  according  to  the  views  of  his  chief  All 
this  was  judicious  enough.  It  was,  however,  des- 
tined to  be  one  of  the  last  works  that  he  was  to  pre- 
pare for  his  old  friend  and  faithful  Lyceum  patron. 
It  must  be  said  that  the  latest  adapter  was  not  alto- 
gether well  fitted  for  the  task,  as  he  was  too  much 
given  to  descriptions  and  "  recitations,"  while 
Mephistopheles  might  have  been  made  far  more  of. 

The  preparations  made  were  of  the  most  thorough 
kind.  For  months  the  managrer's  rooms  were  huno" 
round  with  a  profusion  of  sketches  by  artists  of  all 
kinds,  relics  of  Nuremberg  and  the  Goethe  country, 
with  old  engravings  of  Albert  Durer,  and  great 
folios  of  costumes.  To  permeate  himself  with 
something  of  the  tone  and  feeling  of  the  piece,  he 
travelled  in  Germany,  accompanied  by  his  scene- 
painter,  Mr.  Craven.  Both  stayed  at  Nuremberg, 
where  the  artist  imbued  himself  with  the  whole 
poetry  of  the  old  city.     Every  one  of  artistic  feeling 


C 


'FAUST'  173 

will  recall  one  truly  romantic  scene — a  simple  cloth 
set  very  forward  on  the  scene,  perhaps  to  its  disad- 
vantage— a  view  of  the  old  city,  with  its  dull  red 
high  roofs  and  quaintly-peaked  spires. 

During  the  preparations,  the  theatre,  now  some 
eighty  years  old,  had  been  redecorated  afresh,  but 
at  the  complete  sacrifice  of  the  old  Vestris  adorn- 
ments, the  elegant  medallions  or  cameos,  and  the 
double  gilt  pillars,  which  were  thought  to  interfere 
with  the  view.  The  outline  of  the  dress-circle  was 
brought  forward  with  some  gain  of  space,  and  its 
graceful  undulations  abolished.  For  such  changes 
no  one  can  be  brought  to  account  —  the  irre- 
sistible pressure  of  the  time  and  the  laws  of  con- 
venience bring  them  about.  An  entirely  new  system 
of  decoration  was  introduced,  suggested  by  that  of 
Raffaelle's  Loggie  at  the  Vatican,  which  seemed 
scarcely  sober  enough  for  an  auditorium.  More 
structural  changes  were  also  made  in  the  interests 
of  the  galleries,  of  which  the  manager  had  always 
shown  himself  careful. 

On  December  19,  1886,  the  piece  was  produced. 
There  was  the  now  invariable  excitement  of  a 
Lyceum  premiere,  and  there  were  stories  of  frantic 
efforts,  grovellings,  implorings,  &c.,  to  obtain  a  seat. 
A  peer  had  actually  been  seen  in  the  gallery — and 
was  more  than  content  with  his  place.  The  Royal 
Family  were  in  their  box,  and  the  Prince  of 
Wales  watched  the  play  from  behind  the  scenes. 
Mephistopheles  was  destined  for  many  a  night  to 
give  the  keenest  enjoyment  to  vast  audiences.  It 
was,    indeed,    a    most   original    conception.       With 


174  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

successive  performances  he  enriched  it  with  innu- 
merable telling  and  grotesque  touches ;  for,  as  I 
have  said,  the  adapter  had  "  laid  out  "  the  character 
on  rather  conventional  lines.  In  spite  of  all  these 
defects,  he  suggested  the  notion  of  "  uncanniness  " 
and  a  supernatural  diablerie.  His  antic  scaring  of 
the  women  at  the  church-door  will  be  recalled  by 
many.  Miss  Terry's  Marguerite  was  full  of  pathos 
and  poetry,  occasionally  suggesting,  as  in  the 
"Jewel"  scene,  the  operatic  heroine.  But  at  the 
first  performance  it  became  plain  that  a  serious 
mistake  had  been  made  in  the  choice  of  Conway 
for  the  hero,  Faust.  He  seemed  scarcely  to  feel  or 
understand  the  part ;  there  was  a  lack  of  passion  and 
sympathy.  It  was,  indeed,  an  overwhelming  burden 
for  a  player  whose  gifts  lay  in  the  direction  of  light 
comedy. 

But  on  one  Saturday  night  the  audience  was 
somewhat  astonished  to  see  before  them  a  new 
Faust,  one  who,  moreover,  came  on  with  a  book  in 
his  hand,  which  he  continued  to  read  aloud  even 
after  Mephisto  had  paid  him  his  visit  through  the 
steam  clouds.  It  proved  that  Conway  was  suffer- 
ing from  gout,  and  Alexander,  resigning  his  own 
character  to  Tyars,  took  the  role  of  Faust,  which  on 
the  following  night  he  assumed  permanendy,  and 
"discharged"  in  the  regular  way.  Considering  the 
shortness  of  the  notice,  he  performed  this  awkward 
duty  en  vrai  artiste — as,  indeed,  might  be  expected.  ^ 

'  It  is  but  fair  to  add  that  Mr.  Conway  was  suffering  from 
the  approach  of  a  serious  illness,  which  declared  itself  shortly 
after. 


'FAUST'  175 

However,  the  cast  was  further  strengthened  by  the 
excellent  Mrs.  Stirling,  whose  part  was  scarcely 
worthy  of  her.  Placing  a  strong  performer  in  a  part 
that  is  inferior  in  strength,  instead  of  improving 
or  fortifying,  only  further  brings  out  the  poverty 
of  the  character. 

In  this  piece  numerous  scientific  devices  were 
introduced  to  add  to  the  effect,  such  as  the  clouds  of 
steam  which  veiled  the  apparition  of  Mephistopheles, 
a  device  of  French  origin.  This  is  scarcely  illusive, 
as  it  is  attended  by  an  unmistakable  "hissing" 
sound,  as  of  a  locomotive  ;  it  seems  what  it  is — 
namely,  steam.  The  blue  electric  light  flashed  with 
weird  effect  as  the  swords  of  Valentine  and  Faust 
crossed.  But  here  again  there  was  an  electric  wire 
and  "contact,"  and  a  current  "switched  on."  It 
may  be  paradoxical  to  say  so,  but  these  "advances" 
in  scenic  art  are  really  retrograde  steps. 

Of  the  regular  scenes  or  structures  put  on  the 
stage,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  too  much.  The 
grandly-built  porch  of  the  Church  of  St.  Lorentz 
Platz  at  Nuremberg,  and  the  buildings  grouped 
round  it,  were  extraordinary  works  of  construction, 
the  porch  being  "moulded"  in  all  its  details,  and  of 
the  real  or  natural  size.  Another  scene  that  lingers 
in  the  memory  with  a  sort  of  twilight  melancholy  is 
the  garden  scene,  which  again  illustrated  the  ad- 
mirable instinct  of  the  manager.  Red-brick  walls  of 
calm,  quiet  tones,  old  trees,  and,  above  all,  the 
sombre  towers  of  the  city,  were  seen  in  the  distance. 
The  dresses  of  the  characters  were  chosen  to  har- 
monise, and  the  deep  sunset  cast  a  melancholy  glow 


176  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

or  tinge  over  all.     The  most  striking  effects  were 
contrived  by  changes  of  the  lights  and  "mediums." 

The  Brocken  scene,  for  its  vastness  and  ambitious 
attempt  to  suggest  space  and  atmosphere,  has  never 
been  surpassed.  Most  people  were  struck  by  the 
bewildering  crowd  of  unearthly  spirits,  witches,  and 
demons,  &c.  ;  but  the  real  marvel  was  the  simulation 
of  the  chill  mountain  atmosphere,  the  air  of  dizziness, 
of  mists  that  hover  over  vast  crevasses  and  depths, 
and  make  one  shiver  to  look  at.  The  designing, 
direction,  and  controlling  of  the  elements  in  this 
wonderful  scene  seemed  a  bewildering  and  gigantic 
task. 

The  vision  of  Angels  in  the  last  act  seemed  a 
little  conventional.  There  were  many  objections, 
too,  taken  mostly  by  Germans,  to  the  treatment  of 
the  great  story,  such  as  the  fixing  of  the  scene  at 
Nuremberg  instead  of  at  Leipsic,  the  placing  the 
drinking  bout  in  the  open  air,  and  at  the  tavern 
door,  instead  of  in  Auerbach's  cellar.  These  changes 
could  not,  of  course,  be  justified,  save  on  the  ground 
of  theatrical  expediency. 

For  seven  months,  though  '  Faust '  continued  to 
attract  vast  houses,  it  had  really,  as  the  manager 
said,  "only  started  on  its  wild  career."  On  the 
occasion  of  Miss  Terry's  benefit,  he  made  an  in- 
teresting, half-jocular  speech  announcing  his  plans. 

The  ninety-ninth  night  was  celebrated  in  a 
remarkable  and  somewhat  appropriate  fashion. 
The  venerable  Abbe  Liszt  was  at  this  time  in 
London,  followed  with  an  eager  curiosity,  affecting 
even  the  "cabbies"  with  interest,  who  were  heard 


M 


Ih 


MKi'lIISTU. 


'IHK     AC'IOR. 
[To  face  'page  17/ 


THE   ABBE   LISZT  177 

talkincr  of  the  "  Habby  List."  No  one  who  had 
seen  him  at  this  time  will  forget  the  striking  per- 
sonality of  this  interesting  and  brilliant  man.  He 
was  induced  to  visit  the  theatre,  and  to  witness  the 
performance.  After  the  first  act,  the  orchestra 
broke  into  his  own  "  March,"  and,  being  presently 
recognised  by  the  audience,  the  great  virtuoso 
received  a  perfect  ovation.  He  followed  the  piece 
throughout  with  singular  interest,  and  applauded 
with  enthusiasm.  After  the  play  was  over,  he  was 
welcomed  at  a  supper  in  the  old  Beef-steak  dining- 
room,  where  there  were  invited  to  meet  him  a 
few  distinguished  persons.  His  favourite  dishes — 
"lentil  pudding,  lamb  cutlets,  mushrooms  in  batter" 
— were  prepared  for  him  by  Gunter's  chef.  He  was 
delighted  with  this  delicate  hospitality.  This  is  one 
of  the  many  pleasant  and  dignified  memories  asso- 
ciated with  the  Lyceum. 

During  the  performance  of  'Faust'  Miss  Terry 
found  the  fatigue  excessive,  and,  not  being  very 
strong  at  the  time,  had  to  resign  her  part.  During 
these  intervals,  the  character  was  supported  by  a 
clever  young  actress,  bearing  an  historic  name,  Miss 
Winifred  Emery,  who  brought  much  intelligence  and 
refinement  to  her  task.  She  has  since  "  gone  far," 
indeed.  It  was  generally  agreed  that,  considering 
her  resources,  she  had  supplied  the  place  of  the 
absent  actress  very  well.  The  feti  sacri  was,  of 
course,  not  to  be  expected,  and  cannot  be  supplied 
to  order. 

It  was  when  '  Faust '  was  being  played  that  the 
catastrophe    of  the    burning  of  the   French  Opera 

13 


178  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

Comique  occurred.  This  excited  general  sympathy, 
and  the  kindly  manager  of  the  Lyceum  promised 
that  when  the  proper  time  came  he  would  furnish 
assistance.  In  due  course  a  performance  of  '  Faust' 
was  announced  for  the  benefit  of  the  sufferers,  and  a 
crowded  audience  assembled.  Every  one  concerned 
— and  they  were  to  be  counted  by  hundreds — gave 
their  services  gratis — the  manager  behaved  in  his 
own  liberal  style — and,  as  the  result,  a  sum  of  ^419 
was  despatched  to  Paris.  This  liberality  was  much 
appreciated  by  the  French  press.  The  Figaro  de- 
voted an  article  to  a  review  of  the  various  characters 
played  by  the  English  actor,  and  in  flattering  terms 
pointed  out  that,  notwithstanding  all  his  detractors, 
Mr.  Henry  Irving  was  "the  most  perfect  gentleman." 
This  appreciation  of  our  manager-actor  by  the 
French  will  naturally  suggest  the  inquiry.  What  is 
his  reputation  generally  in  that  eminently  theatrical 
country,  whence  we  draw  our  chief  supply  of  dramas 
and  dramatic  ideas,  and  whose  school  of  acting  is 
perhaps  the  first  in  Europe  ?  So  frequent  have 
been  the  visits  of  French  companies  to  London, 
that  nearly  all  the  leading  performers  have  had 
opportunities  of  seeing  the  English  actor  perform. 
Their  ignorance  of  the  language  has,  of  course, 
stood  in  the  way  of  a  satisfactory  judgment — they 
cannot  follow  the  play  as  an  average  Englishman 
will  follow  a  French  piece  ;  but  all  have  been  struck 
by  his  fine  faculty  of  imparting  colour  and  romance 
to  a  character,  and  have  broken  into  raptures  over 
the  intelligence  that  directs  the  scene,  and  the  lavish 
magnificence  of  the  spectacle. 


VISIT   OF   THE   FRENCH   COMEDY        179 

The  memorable  visit  of  the  French  Comedians  to 
London  in  1879,  and  the  fine  series  of  performances 
in  which  every  player  of  note  displayed  his  talent, 
curiously  coincided  with  the  new  departure  on  the 
English  stage.  Few  will  forget  the  deep  impressions 
left  by  that  season  or  the  opportunities  afforded  for 
a  liberal  education  in  dramatic  taste.  With  the 
company  came  the  fin  fieur  of  French  critics, 
Sarcey,  Claretie  (since  become  director  of  the  com- 
pany he  had  so  often  criticised),  and  others  of  less 
note.  These  judges  were  glad  to  seize  an  oppor- 
tunity, which  under  other  circumstances  they  would 
never  have  thought  of  seeking,  of  visiting  the 
Lyceum  and  witnessing  the  performances  of  the 
most  distinguished  of  English  actors.  I  recall 
Sarcey  at  this  time,  a  coarsely-built  man,  with  not 
very  refined  features,  lounging  night  after  night  into 
his  stall,  with  an  air  of  something  like  arrogance. 
He  did  not  relish  his  enforced  banishment  from  the 
Boulevards,  and  indemnified  himself  by  making 
rather  free  criticisms  on  the  French  players.  He 
was  induced  to  go  and  see  some  of  the  English  per- 
formances, but  with  an  amusing  hauteur  pleaded  his 
ignorance  of  the  language  as  an  excuse  for  not 
passing  any  serious  judgment.      He  wrote  : 

"  Havino-  weighed  the  matter  well,  I  have  deter- 
mined  to  say  very  little  regarding  English  actors. 
I  have  as  yet  seen  but  a  few,  and  those  only  through 
the  medium  of  a  language  imperfectly  understood. 
I  should  be  placing  myself  in  a  ridiculous  position  if 
I  had  the  impertinence  to  touch  upon  matters  which 
I  am  thus  incompetent  to  deal  with.     I  may  remark, 


180  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

however,  that  Mr.  Henry  Irving  appeared  to  me  a 
remarkable  actor,  notwithstanding  a  wilful  tendency 
to  exaggeration.  Possibly,  in  this  latter  respect,  he 
followed  rather  the  taste  of  his  audience,  whom  his 
instinct  judges,  than  his  own  deliberate  choice." 

To  these  brilliant  and  gifted  strangers,  however, 
the  new  manager  did  the  honours  of  his  craft  and 
extended  to  them  a  kindly  hospitality.  Indeed, 
since  that  day,  no  distinguished  artist  has  visited 
these  shores  without  being  welcomed  with  rare 
hospitality.^ 

The  most  accomplished  of  French  comedians  is 
Coquelin  aind,  an  extraordinary  performer,  from  the 
versatility  and  even  classical  character  of  his  talents. 
This  gifted  man,  who  never  appears  without  impart- 

^  I  recall  a  Sunday  morning  during  this  visit,  when  a  message 
arrived  from  the  manager  asking  me  to  join  a  festive  party  to 
Dorking,  to  which  he  had  invited  some  members  of  the  French 
Comedy.     At   the    Garrick   Club,   the    favourite    coach,    "  Old 
Times,"  was  waiting,  and  presently  it  was  "  Buzz  ! — here  come 
the  players."     A  delightful  drive  it  was,  and  a  truly  enjoyable 
day.     There  was  Mounet  Sully,  the  fervent  stage  lover — then,  it 
was  whispered,  the  prey  of  a  hopeless  attachment  to  the  gifted 
"Sarah  " — the  spirituel  Delaunay,  still  a  Jeiine prejnier  in  spite  of 
his  years ;  with  two  or  three  others  of  the  corps.     Of  the  party 
were  also  my  friend  Mr.  Walter  Pollock,  with  his  genial,  well- 
cultured  father,   the  late  Sir  Frederick ;  Campbell  Clarke,   and 
Mr.  Bartlett,    now   Mr.    Burdett-Coutts.     There  was  the  drive 
down  to  the  inviting  little  town,  with  a  lunch  at  the  old  inn, 
some   wanderings   about   its   leafy   lanes,    and  a  return    in   the 
evening  to  the  club,  where  the  host  gave  a  banquet,  at  which 
speeches  in  French  and  English  were  delivered.     The  interesting 
strangers  took  away  with  them  the  lasting  impression  that  he 
was  "a  truly  sympathetic  personage,  with  a  great  deal  of  French 
grace  and  bonhomie  in  his  nature." 


COQUELIN    V.  IRVING  181 

ing  intellectual  enjoyment  of  the  highest  kind  seems 
to  have  always  been  attracted  to  the  English  actor, 
though  exhibiting  his  feelings  in  an  oddly  mixed 
fashion,  compounded  of  admiration  and  hostility. 
Analysis  of  the  workings  of  character  is  the  most 
entertaining  of  pastimes,  and  is,  of  course,  the  foun- 
dation of  theatrical  enjoyment ;  and  the  public  has 
much  relished  the  controversies  between  two  such 
eminent  personages.  In  1886  Coquelin,  during  a 
supper  at  Mrs.  Mackay's,  was  invited  in  a  very 
flattering  way  by  the  Prince  of  Wales  to  play  in 
London  under  Mr.  Mayer.  At  this  time,  in  obe- 
dience to  the  very  natural  "  force  and  pressure  "  of 
gain  which  was  beginning  to  dissolve  the  great 
company  of  the  French  Comedy,  he  had  begun  to 
"star  it,"  as  it  is  called,  in  the  various  capitals 
of  Europe,  and  having  found  himself  appreciated  in 
London  at  private  houses,  as  well  as  on  the  stage, 
he  seems  to  have  nourished  a  feeling  that  he  was 
contending  for  the  suffrages  of  the  public  with  the 
English  actor !  Not  that  he  was  conscious  of  any 
actual  "jealousy,"  but  something  of  this  impression 
was  left  on  those  who  were  watching  the  incident. 
In  matters  of  art,  however,  such  contentions  are 
healthy,  and  pardonable  enough. 

An  early  token  of  this  curious  feeling  was  offered 
in  an  article  published  in  Harpers  Magazine  in 
May,  1887,  where  the  French  actor  discussed  with 
some  acuteness  the  different  systems  of  acting  in 
England  and  in  France,  particularly  in  the  matter  of 
what  is  called  "  natural  "  or  materialistic  acting.  He 
dwelt    on    the    question    how    far   the  gifts   of  the 


^> 


182  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

comedian  will  enable  him  to  exhibit  tragic  characters, 
contending  that  the  practice  of  minute  observation 
would  materially  aid  him. 

What  was  in  Coquelin's  thoughts  all  this  time 
would  appear  to  have  been  a  sort  of  eagerness  to 
measure  himself  with  the  English  actor  in  '  Le  Juif 
Polonais,'  which  he  looked  upon  as  his  own,  and 
which  had  made  a  reputation  for  Irving.  With 
some  lack  of  taste  or  tact,  Coquelin  later  challenged 
an  English  audience  to  decide  between  the  two 
readings  of  Mathias.  He  performed  it,  I  think,  on 
two  different  occasions.  It  was  an  interesting  and 
instructive  experiment,  for  it  proved  that  two  artists 
of  eminence  might  legitimately  take  directly  opposite 
views  of  the  same  character.  But  does  not  character 
in  real  life  offer  the  same  varieties  of  interpretation  ? 
Coquelin  presented  a  sort  of  comfortable  bourgeois, 
a  tradesman-like  personage,  who  was  not  likely  to 
reach  the  heroic  or  melodramatic  place.  He  was 
not  over-sensitive,  nor  was  his  remorse  very  poig- 
nant ;  and  the  keynote  to  his  agitation  was  the 
desire  to  be  thought  respectable,  to  keep  his  posi- 
tion, and  not  be  found  out.  It  was  agreed  that  the 
two  conceptions  were  altogether  opposed.  "  Irving's 
hero  was  a  grave,  dignified  and  melancholy  being : 
Coquelin's  was  a  stout  Alsatian,  well-to-do,  respected 
by  his  neighbours,  but  still  on  an  equality  with  the 
humble  folk  around  him.  Irving's  was  a  conscious- 
stricken  personage  ;  Coquelin's  had  no  conscience  at 
all.  Irving's  was  all  remorse  ;  Coquelin  was  not  in 
the  least  disturbed.  He  takes  delight  in  his  ill-got 
treasures.     The  only  side  on  which  he  is  assailable 


CLARETIE  183 

is  that  of  his  fears,  and  the  arrival  of  the  second 
Jew,  so  Hke  the  first,  terrifies  him  ;  and  too  much 
wine  on  the  night  of  the  wedding  brings  on  the  dis- 
turbed dream."  The  question  might  be  thus  sum- 
marised :  Irving's  reading  was  that  of  a  tragedian  ; 
CoqueHn's  that  of  a  comedian.  For  myself,  I 
confess  a  liking  for  both. 

A  friendly  and  even  enthusiastic  appreciation  of 
the  actor  was  furnished  by  Jules  Claretie,  then  a 
critic  of  eminence.  "His  reputation,"  he  said, 
"  would  be  even  greater  than  it  is  if  he  had  the 
leisure  to  extend  his  studies  and  correct  his  faults  ; 
but,  as  Mr.  Walter  Pollock  remarks,  a  man  who 
has  to  play  six  or  seven  times  a  week  can  hardly  be 
expected  to  find  much  time  for  study.  England, 
unlike  France,  does  not  possess  a  national  theatre.^ 

"  *  Richelieu  '  was  the  first  play  in  which  I  saw 
Mr.  Irving  in  London.  Here  he  is  superb.  The 
performance  amounts  to  a  resurrection.  The  great 
Cardinal,  lean,  worn,  eaten  up  with  ambition,  less 
for  himself  than  for  France,  is  admirably  rendered. 
His  gait  is  jerky,  like  that  of  a  man  shaken  by 
fever ;  his  eye  has  the  depth  of  a  visionary's  ;  a 
hoarse  cough  preys  upon  that  feeble  frame.  When 
Richelieu  appears  in  the  midst  of  the  courtiers,  when 

'  Mr.  Pollock  had  translated  Diderot's  curious  and  instructive 
piece,  in  which  is  discussed  so  acutely  the  point  whether  an 
actor  should  perform  under  actual,  real  emotion,  or  simulate 
it.  Irving  held,  in  theory  as  in  practice,  that  the  actor  must 
train  his  feelings  and  exhibit  them  artificially,  otherwise  each 
performance  will  be  worse  than  the  preceding.  It  has  not  been 
noted  that  Bishop  Butler's  analysis  of  active  and  passive  habits 
helps  to  supply  the  solution. 


184  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

he  flings  his  scorn  in  the  face  of  the  mediocrity  that 
is  to  succeed  him,  when  he  suppHcates  and  adjures 
the  vacillating  Louis  XIIL,  Mr,  Irving  endows  that 
fine  figure  with  a  striking  majesty. 

"What  a  profound  artist  this  tragedian  is!  The 
performance  over,  I  was  taken  to  see  him  in  his 
dressing-room.  I  found  him  surrounded  by  portraits 
of  Richelieu.  He  had  before  him  the  three  studies 
of  Philippe  de  Champaigne,  one  representing 
Richelieu  in  full  face,  and  the  others  in  profile. 
There  was  also  a  photograph  of  the  same  painter's 
full-length  portrait  of  the  Cardinal.  Before  playing 
Louis  XL  again,  Mr.  Irving  studied  Commines, 
Victor  Hugo,  Walter  Scott,  and  all  who  have 
written  of  the  bourgeois  and  avaricious  king,  who 
wore  out  the  elbows  of  his  pourpoint  de  ratine  on  the 
tables  of  his  gossips,  the  skin-dressers  and  shoe- 
makers. The  actor  is  an  adept  in  the  art  of  face- 
painting,  and  attaches  great  importance  to  the 
slightest  details  of  his  costume. 

"  I  asked  him  what  other  historical  personage  he 
would  like  to  represent,  what  face  he,  who  excelled 
in  what  I  call  stage-resurrection,  would  wish  to 
revive.  He  reflected  a  moment,  his  countenance 
assuming  a  thoughtful  expression.  '  Francais  ou 
Anglais  ? '  he  at  length  asked.  '  Francais  ou 
Anglais:  peu  importe,'  I  replied.  'Eh  bien ! '  he 
said,  after  another  short  pause,  'je  serais  heureux 
de  crder  un  Camille  Desmoulins.' 

"Mr.  Irving's  literary  and  subtle  mind  leans  to 
psychological  plays — plays  which,  if  I  may  so 
express  myself,  are  more  tragic  than  dramatic.      He 


CLARETIE         '  185 

is  the  true  Shakespearian  actor.  How  great  was 
the  pleasure  which  the  performance  of  '  Hamlet ' 
afforded  me  !  For  a  literary  man  it  is  a  source  of 
real  enjoyment.  Mr.  Irving,  as  manager  of  the 
Lyceum,  spends  more  than  ;^3,ooo  a  month  to  do 
things  on  an  adequate  scale.  His  theatre  is  the 
first  in  London.  He  would  like  to  make  it  a 
sort  of  Comedie  Francaise,  as  he  would  like  to 
found  a  sort  of  Conservatoire  to  afford  young 
English  artists  the  instruction  they  stand  so  much 
in  need  of. 

"In  Louis  XI.  Mr.  Irving  has  been  adjudged 
superior  to  Ligier.  Dressed  with  historical  accuracy, 
he  is  admirable  in  the  comedy  element  of  the  piece 
and  the  chief  scenes  with  the  Monk  and  Nemours. 
The  limelight  projected  like  a  ray  of  the  moon  on 
his  contracted  face  as  he  pleads  for  his  life  excited 
nothing  less  than  terror.  The  hands,  lean  and 
crooked  as  those  of  a  Harpagon — the  fine  hands 
whose  character  is  changed  with  each  of  his  roles — 
aid  his  words.  And  how  striking  in  its  realism  is 
the  last  scene,  representing  the  struggle  between 
the  dying  king  and  his  fate  !  " 

Another  admirable  French  player.  Got,  once  the 
glory  of  the  French  Comedie,  and  unquestionably 
the  most  powerful  and  varied  performer  of  his  day, 
used  to  come  a  grood  deal  to  London  between  the 
years   1870  and   1880. 

It  was  a  singular  tribute  to  Irving  that  so  great 
a  player,  in  his  day  greater  even  than  Coquelin, 
should  have  been  drawn  from  his  retirement  to  take 
up  one  of  his  characters.     Got,  the    "  Dean  of  the 


186  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

French  stage,"  as  Irving  is  "  Dean  "  of  the  English 
theatre,  by  and  by  felt  himself  irresistibly  impelled 
to  give  his  version  of  '  The  Bells.'  He  induced  a 
Paris  manager  to  draw  forth  the  long-forgotten  piece 
from  its  obscurity,  and  presented  Mathias  very  much 
on  the  bourgeois  lines  of  Coquelin. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
1887 

'  FAUST  ' '  WERNER  ' '  MACAIRE  ' THE  ACTOR's 

SOCIAL   GIFTS 

HE  was  now  preparing  for  his  third  American 
tour,  the  object  of  which  was  to  introduce 
to  the  audiences  of  the  United  States  his  splendid 
spectacular  piece,  '  Faust.'  This  had  excited  much 
interest  and  expectation,  and  its  attractions  were 
even  magnified  by  distance.  It  was  the  "last 
word  "  in  scenic  display.  The  Americans  had  now 
become  a  section,  as  it  were,  of  the  audiences, 
and  it  would  seem  to  be  inevitable  that  at  fixed 
intervals,  and  when  a  series  of  striking  plays 
had  been  given  in  England,  the  manager  should 
feel  a  sort  of  irresistible  pressure  to  present 
the  same  attractions  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Atlantic.  This  expedition  took  place  in  October, 
1887,  and  was  crowned  with  all  success.  Hence- 
forth the  periodical  visit  to  America  became  a 
necessity  ;  a  new  visit  was  planned  in  concert 
with  Mr.  Abbey,  and  fixed  for   1893. 

On  the  return  of  the  company,  after  their  United 

1S7 


188  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

States  triumphs,  *  Faust '  was  revived  for  a  short 
period.  At  the  close  of  the  first  performance  the 
manager  announced  his  plans,  which  were  awaited 
with  some  curiosity.  "  The  devil,"  he  said,  "  had 
been  to  and  fro  on  the  face  of  the  earth."  After  a 
month  of  '  Faust,'  he  proposed  to  give  Mr.  Calmour's 
'  Amber  Heart,'  to  bring  forward  Miss  Terry,  while 
he  himself  was  to  conclude  the  evening  with  a 
revival  of  'Robert  Macaire.' 

On  July  I,  1887,  the  manager  of  the  Lyceum 
performed  one  of  those  many  kindly,  graceful  acts 
with  which  his  name  is  connected — an  act  done  at 
the  right  moment,  and  for  the  suitable  person.  He 
lent  his  theatre  to  benefit  a  veteran  dramatist,  Dr. 
Westland  Marston,  who  in  his  day  had  been  asso- 
ciated with  the  classical  orlories  of  the  stacje,  and 
had  written  the  interesting  '  Wife's  Secret '  for 
Charles  Kean.  As  he  now  told  the  audience  from 
the  stage,  fifty  years  had  elapsed  since  he  had 
written  his  first  piece  for  Macready.  The  com- 
mittee formed  was  a  most  influential  one,  and  com- 
prised the  names  of  such  eminent  litterateurs  as 
Browning,  Alfred  Austin,  E.  W.  Gosse,  William 
Black,  Wilkie  Collins,  Gilbert,  Swinburne,  Tenny- 
son, and  many  more.  The  performance  was  an 
afternoon  one,  and  the  play  selected  was  Byron's 
'Werner,'  written  "up  to  date,"  as  it  is  called,  by 
Frank  Marshall.  New  scenery  and  dresses  had 
been  provided,  though  the  actor  did  not  propose 
giving  another  representation.  He,  however, 
intended  to  perform  it  on  his  approaching  American 
tour.      It    must    be   said    that  the  play   gave  little 


MJlHtHTt/lKJlHu 


{To  Jacc  pat,,'  188. 


'  WERNER '— '  MACAIRE '  189 

satisfaction,  and  was  about  as  lugubrious  as  '  The 
Stranger,'  some  of  the  acts,  moreover,  being  played 
in  almost  Cimmerian  gloom.  What  inclined  the 
manager  to  this  choice  it  would  be  difficult  to  say. 
He  had  rather  dipenckmtt  for  these  morosely  gloomy 
men,  who  stalk  about  the  stage  and  deliver  long  and 
remorseful  reviews  and  retrospects  of  their  lives. 
Audiences,  however,  sympathise,  and  listen  with 
respectful  attention. 

'  Werner '  was  to  illustrate  once  more  the  con- 
scientious and  laborious  care  of  the  manager  in  the 
production  of  his  pieces.  He  engaged  Mr.  Seymour 
Lucas  to  furnish  designs  for  the  dresses,  who  drew 
his  inspirations  from  an  old  volume  of  etchings  of 
one  "  Stefan o  della  Bella"  in  1630.  So  patiently 
difficile  was  our  manager  in  satisfying  himself,  that 
it  is  said  the  dresses  in  '  Faust '  were  made  and 
re-made  three  times  before  they  were  found  satis- 
factory. In  this  case  all  the  arms  of  antique 
pattern,  the  dresses,  quaint  head-dresses,  and  the 
like,  even  down  to  the  peculiar  buttons  of  the 
period,  were  made  especially  in  Paris  under 
Auguste's  superintendence. 

'Robert  Macaire,'  that  strange,  almost  weird-like 
drama,  was  familiar  enough  to  Irving,  who  had 
occasionally  played  it  in  the  early  part  of  his  course, 
and  also  at  the  St.  James's  Theatre  in  1867.  For 
all  performers  of  genius  who  have  taste  for  the  mere 
diablerie  of  acting,  and  the  eccentric  mixture  of 
traeic  and  comic,  this  character  offers  an  attraction, 

o 

if  not  a  fascination.  We  can  feel  its  power  our- 
selves  as    we  call  up  the    grotesque    figure ;    nay, 


190  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

even  those  who  have  never  seen  the  piece  can  have 
an  understanding  of  the  character,  as  a  coherent 
piece  of  grotesque.  There  is  something  of  genius 
in  the  contrasted  and  yet  intimate  union  between 
the  eccentric  pair.  In  June,  1883,  there  had  been 
a  performance  at  the  Lyceum  for  the  Royal  College 
of  Music,  when  Irving  had  played  the  character, 
assisted  by  "  friend  Toole,"  Bancroft,  Terriss,  and 
Miss  Terry — certainly  a  strong  cast.  When  the 
piece  was  formally  brought  out,  the  part  was  allotted 
to  Mr.  Weedon  Grossmith,  who  was  in  the  other 
extreme,  and  too  subordinate. 

The  play  was  produced  in  July,  1888,  and  was 
found  not  so  attractive  as  was  anticipated.  It 
seemed  as  though  it  were  not  wholly  intelligible  to 
the  audience.  There  were  some  reasons  for  this, 
the  chief  being  the  gruesome  assassination  at  "the 
roadside  inn,"  which  is  old-fashioned,  being  literally 
"played  out."  More  curious  was  it  to  find  that  the 
quaint  type  of  Macaire  seemed  to  convey  nothing 
very  distinct.  All  accepted  it  as  an  incoherent 
extravagance  :  which  opens  an  interesting  specula- 
tion— viz.,  How  many  such  parts  are  there  which 
have  been  the  characters  of  the  original  actors, 
and  not  the  author's — the  former's  creation,  in 
short?  Lemaitre's  extraordinary  success  was,  as 
is  well  known,  the  result  of  a  happy  inspiration 
conceived  during  the  progress  of  the  piece.  From 
being  a  serious  or  tragic  character,  he  turned  it  into 
a  grotesque  one.  There  may  have  been  here 
something  founded  on  the  sort  of  gaminerie  that 
seems  to  go  with   crime ;    or   it   may   have   been 


'MAC  AIRE'  191 

a  recklessness,  which,  together  with  ludicrous 
attempts  at  a  squalid  dandyism,  showed  a  mind 
not  only  depraved,  but  dulled  and  embet^.  This 
sort  of  inspiration,  where  an  actor  sees  his  own 
conception  in  the  part  and  makes  it  his  own,  is 
illustrated  by  '  The  Bells,'  which — in  the  hands  of 
another  actor — might  have  been  played  according 
to  conventional  laws.  An  English  actor  who 
would  have  succeeded  in  the  part  was  the  elder 
Robson.  In  Irving's  case,  the  audience  were  not 
in  key,  or  in  tune  ;  the  thing  seemed  passe,  though 
our  actor  had  all  the  traditions  of  the  part,  even  to 
the  curiously  "creaking  snuff-box. "^ 

Among  Wills's  friends,  admirers  and  associates — 
of  which  his  affectionate  disposition  always  brought 
him  a  following — was  Calmour,  the  author  of  some 
pieces  full  of  rather  graceful  verse  of  the  antique 
model.  Like  Mr.  Pinero,  he  "knew  the  boards," 
having  "served"  in  the  ranks,  an  essential  advantage 
for  all  who  would  write  plays  ;  had  written  several 
slight    pieces    of  a  poetical  cast,  notably  '  Cupid's 

'  This  also  seemed  quite  unintelligible  to  the  audience ;  but 
its  secret  was  the  secret  of  the  creator  or  originator  of  the  part. 
Such  devices  are  really  significant  of  something  dramatic  that  has 
actually  prompted  them ;  they  become  an  expression.  The 
revived  "business,"  therefore,  will  not  serve  unless  the  original 
spirit  attends  it.  This  squeaking  snuff-box  was  a  note  of  diablerie, 
introduced  with  strange  sudden  spasms  at  unexpected  moments, 
and  corresponded  to  the  twitches  and  spasms  of  Macaire's  mind. 
For  the  manager  I  collected  much  of  old  Lemaitre's  business, 
and  those  curious  chants  with  which  the  robber  carried  off  his 
villainies.  Jingle  and  Job  Trotter  were  certainly  modelled  on 
Macaire  and  his  man;  for  the  piece  was  being  played  when 
"  Pickwick  "  came  out. 


192  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

Messenger,'  in  which  the  graceful  and  sympathetic 
Mary  Rorke  had  obtained  much  success  in  a 
"  trunk  and  hose  "  character.  But  a  play  of  a  more 
ambitious  kind,  'The  Amber  Heart,'  had  taken 
Miss  Terry's  fancy ;  she,  as  we  have  said,  had 
"created"  the  heroine  at  a  matinde.  It  proved 
to  be  a  sort  of  dreamy  Tennysonian  poem,  and 
was  received  with  considerable  favour. 

'The  Amber  Heart,'  now  placed  in  the  bill  with 
'  Robert  Macaire,'  was  revived  with  the  accustomed 
Lyceum  state  and  liberality.  To  Alexander  was 
allotted  the  hero's  part,  and  he  declaimed  the 
harmonious  lines  with  good  effect.  But  I  fancy  the 
piece  was  found  of  rather  too  delicate  a  structure 
for  such  large  and  imposing  surroundings.^ 

Whenever  there  is  some  graceful  act,  a  memorial 
to  a  poet  or  player  to  be  inaugurated,  it  was  pretty 
certain  that  our  actor-manager  would  be  called  on 
to  take  the  leading  and  most  disting^uished  share  in 
the  ceremonial.  At  the  public  meeting,  or  public 
dinner,  he  deported  himself  with  much  effect. 
There  are  plenty  of  persons  of  culture  who  have 
been  deputed  to  perform  such  duties ;  but  we  feel 
there  is  often  something  artificial  in  their  methods 
and  speeches.     In  the  case  of  the  actor,  we  know 

^  We  may  at  least  admire  this  writer's  perseverance  and 
intrepidity,  who  from  that  time  has  never  relaxed  his  efforts 
to  win  the  approbation  or  secure  the  attention  of  the  public. 
One  could  have  wished  him  better  success  with  his  later  venture 
and  most  ambitious  attempt,  the  management  of  the  Avenue 
Theatre,  where  he  introduced  his  own  piece  illustrative  of 
"modern  English  life,"  with  which  his  critics — for  whom,  like 
the  sapper,  "  nothing  is  sacred  " — made  merry. 


THE   ACTOR'S  SOCIAL  GIFTS  193 

that  there  is  a  something  genuine  ;  he  supplies  a  life 
to  the  dry  bones,  and  we  depart  knowing  that  he  has 
added  grace  to  our  recollections  of  the  scene.     Nor 
does  he    add    an    exaggeration    to  what    he    says ; 
there  is  a  happy  judicious  reserve.     This  was  felt 
especially  on  the  occasion  of  one  pleasant  festival 
day  in  the  September  of  1891,  when  a  memorial  by 
Mr.    Onslow  Ford  was  unveiled    to  Marlowe,  the 
dramatist,  in  the  good  old  town  of  Canterbury.      It 
was  an  enjoyable  expedition,  with  something  simple 
and  rustic  on  the  whole,  while  to  any  one  of  poetical 
tastes  there  was  something  unusually  harmonious  in 
the    combination  offered  of  the  antique  town,  the 
memory  of  "  Dr.   Faustus,"  the  old  Cathedral,  and 
the    beaming   presence   of    the    cultured   artist,    of 
whom  no  one  thought  as    manager   of  a    theatre. 
A  crowd  of  critics  and  authors  came  from  town  by 
an   early   train,    invited   by   the   hospitable    Mayor. 
At  any  season  the  old    town    is    inviting   enough, 
but    now    it    was    pleasant    to    march    through    its 
narrow  streets,    under   the    shadow  of   its    framed 
houses,   to    the    small    corner   close    to    the    Christ 
Church  gate  of  the  Cathedral,  where  the  speeching 
and  ceremonials  were    discharged.     The    excellent 
natives  seemed  perhaps  a  little  puzzled  by  the  new- 
found   glories    of     their    townsman ;     they    were, 
however,  glad  to  see  the  well-known  actor.     Equally 
pleasant,  too,   was  it  to  make  our  way  to  the  old 
Fountain  Inn,  where  the  "worthy"  Mayor  enter- 
tained   his    guests    and    where    there   were   more 
speeches.     The  image  of  the  sleepy  old  town,  and 
the  grand  Cathedral,  and  of  the  pretty  litde  fountain 

U 


194  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

— which,  however,  had  but  little  suggestion  of  the 
colossal  Marlowe — and  the  general  holiday  tone 
still  lingers  in  the  memory.  Irving's  speech  was 
very  happy,  and  for  its  length  is  singularly 
suggestive.  With  this  little  expedition  I  was  later 
destined  to  be  associated  in  a  more  intimate  way. 
From  lack  of  funds  three  of  the  four  niches 
were  left  unfilled,  and  I  am  at  this  moment 
supplying  figures  of  my  own  design  and  work- 
manship to  fill  the  spaces. 

It  was  in  October,  1887,  that  a  memorial  was  set 
up  at  Stratford,  a  clock-tower  and  fountain,  in 
memory  of  Shakespeare.  It  was  the  gift  of  the 
wealthy  Mr.  Childs,  of  New  York,  who  had  been 
hitherto  eager  to  associate  his  name,  in  painted 
windows  and  other  ways,  with  distinguished  Eng- 
lishmen of  bygone  times.  It  may  be  suspected 
that  Childs's  own  name  will  not  be  so  inseparably 
linked  with  celebrated  personages  as  he  fondly 
imagined.  There  is  a  sort  of  incongruity  in  this 
association  of  a  casual  stranger  with  an  English 
poet.     Irving  took  his  part  in  this  show. 

Many  a  delightful  night  have  his  friends  owed  to 
the  thoughtful  kindness  and  hospitality  of  their 
interesting  host.  Such  was,  indeed,  one  of  the 
privileges  of  being  his  friend.  The  stage  brings 
with  it  abundance  of  pleasant  associations ;  but 
there  are  a  number  of  specially  agreeable  memories 
bound  up  with  the  Lyceum.  Few  will  forget  the 
visit  of  the  Duke  of  Meiningen's  company  of 
players  to  this  country,  which  forms  a  landmark  of 


THE   ACTOR'S  SOCIAL  GIFTS  195 

extraordinary  importance  in  the  history  of  our 
modern  stage.  With  it  came  Barnay,  that  accom- 
plished and  romantic  actor;  and  a  wonderful  instinct 
of  disciplining  crowds,  and  making  them  express 
the  passions  of  the  moment,  as  in  Shakespeare's 
'Julius  Caesar.'  The  skilful  German  stage-managers 
did  not  import  their  crowds,  but  were  able  to 
inspire  ordinary  bands  of  supernumeraries  with 
the  dramatic  feelings  and  expression  that  they 
wanted. 

It  was  one  pleasant  Sunday  evening  at  the  close 
of  a  summer's  day,  when  Irving  invited  his  friends 
to  meet  the  German  performers  at  the  Lyceum. 
The  stage  had  been  picturesquely  enclosed  and 
fashioned  into  a  banqueting-room,  the  tables  spread; 
the  orchestra  performed  in  the  shadowy  pit.  It  was 
an  enjoyable  night.  There  was  a  strange  mingling 
of  languages — German,  French,  English.  There 
were  speeches  in  these  tongues,  and  at  one  moment 
Palgrave  Simpson  was  addressing  the  company  in 
impetuous  fashion,  passing  from  English  to  French, 
from  French  to  German,  with  extraordinary  fluency. 
Later  in  the  evening  there  was  an  adjournment 
to  the  Beefsteak-room,  where  the  accomplished 
Barnay  found  himself  at  the  piano,  to  be  succeeded 
by  the  versatile  Beatty-Kingston,  himself  half 
German.  There  were  abundant  "  Hochs "  and 
pledgings.  Not  until  the  furthest  of  the  small  hours 
did  we  separate,  indebted  to  our  kindly,  unaffected 
host  for  yet  one  more  delightful  evening. 

The  manager  once  furnished  a  pleasantly  piquant 
afternoon's  amusement  for  his  friends  on  the  stage 


196  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

of  his  handsome  theatre.  Among  those  who  have 
done  service  to  the  stage  is  Mr.  Walter  Pollock, 
lately  editor  of  the  Saturday  Revieiv,  who,  among 
his  other  accomplishments,  is  a  swordsman  of  no 
mean  skill.  He  has  friends  with  the  same  tastes, 
with  whom  he  practises  this  elegant  art,  such  as 
Mr.  Egerton  Castle,  Captain  Hutton,  and  others. 
It  is  not  generally  known  that  there  is  a  club 
known  as  the  Kerneuzers,  whose  members  are 
avtateurs  enragds  for  armour  and  swordsmanship, 
many  of  whom  have  fine  collections  of  helmets, 
hauberks,  and  blades  of  right  Damascene  and 
Toledo.^  Mr.  Egerton  Castle  and  others  of  his 
friends  have  written  costly  and  elaborate  works  on 
fencing,  arms,  and  the  practice  of  the  arme  blanche, 
and  at  their  meetings  held  exciting  combats  with 
dirk  and  foil.  It  was  suggested  that  Mr.  Castle 
should  give  a  lecture  on  this  subject,  with  practical 
illustrations ;  and  the  manager,  himself  a  fencer, 
invited  a  number  of  friends  and  amateurs  to  witness 
the  performance,  which  took  place  on  February  25, 
1891.  This  lecture  was  entitled  "The  Story  of 
Swordsmanship,"  especially  in  connection  with  the 
rise  and  decline  of  duelling.  And  accordingly  there 
was  witnessed  a  series  of  combats,  mediaeval, 
Italian,  and  others,  back-sword,  small-sword,  sword 
and  cloak,  and  the  rest.  Later  the  performance 
was  repeated  at  the  instance  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales. 

'  The  quaint  name  of  this  club,  "  the  Kerneuzers,"  was 
suggested  by  a  simple  attendant,  who  actually  so  described  the 
members ;  it  was  his  pronunciation  of  the  word  "  connoisseurs." 


SIR     IIKNKV    IK\1M;    IX     HIS    I  )R  KSSl  NC- KOdM    Al'    'IHK    l.V(  KIM     I' 1 1 ICATKE. 

riiK    KMcii'i'   MK   ■nil';   si'ack. 

Drawn  I'roiii    l.ilo  l>,v  I'aiil  JJcnouard. 

[To  face  I'dfjc  197 


THE   ACTOR'S  SOCIAL  GIFTS  197 

Irvincr  often  contributed  his  share  to  "benefits" 
for  his  distressed  brethren,  as  they  are  often 
called.  In  the  days  when  he  was  a  simple  actor 
he  took  his  part  like  the  rest  ;  when  he  became 
manager  he  would  handsomely  lend  his  theatre,  and 
actually  "get  up"  the  whole  as  though  it  were  one 
of  his  own  pieces.  This  is  the  liberal,  grand  style 
of  conferring  a  favour. 

In  June,  1876,  a  performance  was  arranged  at  the 
Haymarket  for  a  benefit,  when  the  ever-blooming 
'  School  for  Scandal '  was  performed  by  Phelps,  Miss 
Neilson,  "  Ben "  Webster,  Irving,  Bancroft,  and 
others.  Irving  was  the  Joseph  Surface,  a  perform- 
ance which  excited  much  anticipation  and  curiosity. 
Some  time  after  he  performed  the  same  character  at 
Drury  Lane.  It  might  naturally  have  been  thought 
that  the  part  would  have  exactly  suited  him,  but 
whether  from  novelty  or  restlessness,  there  was  a 
rather  artificial  tone  about  the  performance.  But 
what  actor  can  be  expected  to  play  every  character, 
and  to  find  every  character  suited  to  him  .'*  Joseph 
is  held  to  be  one  of  the  most  difficult  in  the  whole 
repertoire  to  interpret.  It  was  the  most  extraordi- 
nary, puzzling  exhibition  that  could  be  conceived  ; 
utterly  unlike  all  idea  of  Joseph  Surface — in  fact, 
travelling  off  in  lines  totally  opposed  to  any  rational 
conception  of  the  character.  It  seemed  that  he 
could  make  nothing  of  it.  It  was,  in  short,  a 
phenomenon.  At  the  Belford  benefit — Belford  and 
his  services  to  the  stage,  such  as  they  were,  are 
lonsf  since  forgotten — the  all  but  enormous  sum 
of  ;^i,ooo  was   received!      For  schools,  charities, 


198  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

convents  even,  and  philanthropic  work  of  all 
kinds,  some  contribution  from  Henry  Irving  in  the 
shape  of  a  recitation  or  scene  was  always  looked 
for. 

Irving's  vein  of  pleasantry  was  as  welcome  as  it  is 
unpretentious.  I  have  heard  him  at  the  General 
Theatrical  Fund  dinner  give  the  toast  of  "  The 
Army,  Navy,  and  Reserve  Forces,"  when  he  said, 
"There  is  an  Artists'  Corps — I  am  curious  to  know 
why  there  should  not  be  an  Actors'  Corps.  We  are 
accustomed  to  haiidle  weapons''  On  this  occasion 
"friend  Toole  "had  to  leave  on  duty  ;  "whose  fine 
Roman  visage,"  said  his  friend,  "has  beamed  on 
us  during  dinner — he  has  been  obliged  to  go  away, 
fortified,  I  hope,  for  his  arduous  labours,  but  he  will 
return — I  know  him  well — and  he  will  too,  I  am  sure, 
with  a  most  excellent  donation."  He  could  tell  a 
story  or  relish  a  humorous  situation  with  equal  effect. 
In  company  with  Toole,  he  often  contrived  a  droll 
situation  or  comic  adventure.^ 

'  Once,  when  visiting  Stratford-on-Avon  with  Toole,  he  saw  a 
rustic  sitting  on  a  fence,  whom  they  submitted  to  an  interroga- 
tory. "That's  Shakespeare's  house,  isn't  it?"  it  was  asked  inno- 
cently. "Ees."  "Ever  been  there?"  "Noa."  "How  long 
has  he  been  dead  ?  "  "  Dunno."  "  What  did  he  do  ?  "  "  Dunno." 
"  Did  he  not  write  ?  "  "  Oh  yes,  he  did  summat."  "  What  was 
it?"  "Well,  I  think  he  writ  Boible."  A  pleasantry  that  both 
the  players  once  contrived  in  Scotland,  at  the  expense  of  an  old 
waiter  at  an  hotel,  is  of  a  higher  order  of  merit  than  such  hoaxes 
usually  offer.  At  this  country  inn  they  had  noted  that  the  spoons, 
forks,  &c.,  seemed  to  be  of  silver,  and  with  some  artfully  designed 
emphasis  they  questioned  the  waiter  about  the  property.  As  soon 
as  he  had  gone  out,  they  concealed  all  the  plate,  and,  having  rung 
the   bell,  jumped   out   of  the   window,  which  was   close  to  the 


THE   ACTOR'S   SOCIAL   GIFTS  199 

At  one  period,  when  he  was  oppressed  with  hard 
work,  it  was  suggested  to  him  that  sleeping  in  the 
country  would  be  a  great  restorative  after  his 
labours.  He  much  fancied  an  old  house  and  grounds 
at  Hammersmith,  known  as  "The  Grange";  and 
having  purchased  it,  he  laid  out  a  good  deal  of 
money  in  improving  and  restoring  it.  It  had  nice 
old  gardens,  with  summer-house,  a  good  staircase, 
and  some  old  panelled  rooms. 

To  a  man  with  such  social  tastes,  the  journey 
down  and  the  night  spent  there  must  have  been 
banishment,  or  perhaps  was  found  too  troublesome. 
Literary  men,  artists,  and  the  like  do  not  much  relish 
these  tranquil  pleasures,  though  practical  men  of 
business  do.  Most  will  agree,  I  am  certain,  that 
they  leave  Fleet  Street  and  the  Strand  with  reluc- 
tance and  return  to  it  with  pleasure.  After  a  few 
years  he  was  anxious  to  be  rid  of  what  was  only  a 

ground,  and  hid  themselves  in  the  shrubbery.  The  old  man 
re-entered  :  they  heard  his  cries  of  rage  and  astonishment  at  the 
robbery,  and  at  the  disappearance  of  the  supposed  thieves.  He 
then  rushed  from  the  room  to  summon  the  household.  The  rest 
of  the  story  is  worth  giving  in  Irving's  words,  as  reported  by  Mr. 
Hatton.  "  We  all  crept  back  to  the  room,  closed  the  window, 
drew  down  the  blind,  relighted  the  gas  and  our  cigars,  put  each 
piece  of  silver  back  into  its  proper  place,  and  sat  down  to  wait  for 
our  bill.  In  a  few  minutes  we  heard  evidently  the  entire 
household  coming  pell-mell  to  the  dining-room.  Then  our  door 
was  flung  open  ;  but  the  crowd,  instead  of  rushing  in  upon  us, 
suddenly  paused  en  masse,  and  Sandy  exclaimed,  '  Great  God  ! 
Weel,  weel  !     Hae  I  just  gane  clean  daft  ? ' 

"'Come  awa',  drunken  foo',  come  awa' ! '  exclaimed  the 
landlord,  pulling  Sandy  and  the  rest  back  into  the  passage  and 
shutting  the  door." 


200  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

useless  toy,  and  it  was  offered  for  sale  for,  I  think, 
^4,000.1 

^  Quite  a  number  of  relics  of  great  actors  have,  as  we  have 
already  shown,  found  their  way  to  Irving's  custody.  Thus  on  his 
visit  to  Oxford  he  had  spoken  of  the  last  days  of  Edmund  Kean. 
A  few  days  later  he  received  a  purse  of  faded  green  silk  found 
in  the  pocket  of  the  great  actor  just  after  his  death,  and  found 
empty.  It  had  been  given  by  Charles  Kean  to  John  Forster,  and 
by  him  to  Robert  Browning.  Edmund  and  Charles  Kean, 
Forster,  Browning,  and  Irving  form  a  remarkable  combination. 
"  How  can  I  more  worthily  place  it,"  wrote  Browning,  "  than  in 
your  hands,  if  they  will  do  me  the  honour  to  take  it,  with  all 
respect  and  regard  ?  "  At  the  recent  sale  of  his  effects  there  were 
seen  a  vast  number  of  these  memorials. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

1888 

'  MACBETH  ' '  THE  DEAD  HEART  ' '  RAVENSWOOD  ' 

THE  approach  of  the  opening  night  of  '  Mac- 
beth'— its  second  revival  by  our  actor — caused 
more  excitement  than  perhaps  any  of  the  Lyceum 
productions.  There  was  a  sort  of  fever  of  expect- 
ancy ;  it  was  known  that  everything  in  the  way  of 
novelty — striking  and  sumptuous  dress  and  scenery, 
elaborate  thought  and  study,  and  money  had  been 
expended  in  almost  reckless  fashion.  There  were 
legends  afloat  as  to  Miss  Terry's  marvellous  "  beetle- 
green"  dress,  and  the  copper-coloured  tresses  which 
were  to  hang  down  on  her  shoulders.*  The  scenery 
was  to  be  vast,  solid,  and  monumental.  It  was  no 
surprise  when  it  was  learned  that  before  the  day  of 

^  One  of  these  many  "  snappers-up  of  trifies  "  described  the 
nightgown  worn  by  Lady  Macbeth  in  her  sleep-walking  scene, 
which  was  all  of  wool  knitted  into  a  pretty  design.  Mrs.  Comyns 
Carr  designed  Miss  Terry's  dresses,  which  certainly  did  not  lack 
bold  originality.  There  was  the  curious  peacock  blue  and 
malachite  green  dress  which  contrasted  with  the  locks  of  copper- 
coloured  hair,  from  which  the  half  American  artist,  Mr.  Sargent, 

formed  a  striking  but  not  very  pleasing  portrait. 

201 


202  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

performance  some  ;!^ 2,000  had  been  paid  for  seats 
at  the  box-office. 

While  allowing  due  praise  to  the  accomplishments 
and  sagacity  of  our  dramatic  critics,  I  confess  to 
looking  with  some  distrust  and  alarm  at  a  sort  of 
"new  criticism"  which,  like  the  so-called  "new 
humour,"  has  developed  in  these  latter  days.  This 
amounts  to  the  assumption  of  an  aggressive  person- 
ality— there  is  a  constant  manifestation,  not  of  the 
play  or  performers  criticised,  but  of  the  writer's  own 
thoughts  and  opinions.     It  seems  to  be  the  fashion 

for  a  critic  to   devote    his  article  to   Mr. ,  an 

opposing  critic,  as  though  the  public  attached  any 
importance  to  the  opinions  these  gentlemen  held  of 
each  other.  The  vanity  thus  unconsciously  dis- 
played is  often  ludicrous  enough.  The  instances, 
however,  are  fortunately  rare. 

Produced  on  December  29th,  the  play  caused  con- 
siderable excitement  among  Shakespearian  students 
and  "constant  readers"  ;  and  Miss  Terry's  reading 
— or  rather  the  appearance  of  Miss  Terry  in  the 
part — produced  much  vehement  controversy.  We 
had  "  The  Real  Macbeth  "  in  the  Daily  Telegraph, 
with  the  usual  "old  playgoers"  who  had  seen  Mrs. 
Charles  Kean.  I  fancy  there  were  but  three  or  four 
persons  who  were  able  to  compare  the  performance 
of  Miss  Terry  with  that  of  Mrs.  Siddons — about 
sixty  years  before.^ 

'  It  was  likely  that  the  majority  of  these  persons  were  incapa- 
citated by  age  from  forming  a  judgment  on  this  matter ;  but  it 
was  curious  that  I  should  have  conversed  with  two  persons  at 
least  who  were  capable  of  making  the  comparison.     One  was  Mr. 


'MACBETH'  203 

Banquo's  ghost  has  always  been  the  difficulty 
in  every  presentation  of  the  play  ;  all  modern 
apparitions  and  phantasmagorian  effects  neutralise 
or  destroy  themselves.  The  powerful  light  behind 
exhibits  the  figure  through  the  gauzes,  but  to  pro- 
cure this  effect  the  lights  in  front  must  be  lowered 
or  darkened.  This  gives  notice  in  clumsy  fashion 
of  what  is  coming,  and  prepares  us  for  the  ghost. 

"  New  and  original  "  readings  rarely  seem  accept- 
able, and,  indeed,  are  scarcely  ever  welcomed  by 
the  public,  who  have  their  old  favourite  lines  to 
which  they  are  well  accustomed.  We  never  hear  one 
of  these  novelties  without  an  effect  being  left  as  of 
something  "purely  fantastical,"  as  Elia  has  it,  and 
invariably  they  seem  unacceptable  and  forced,  pro- 
ducing surprise  rather  than  pleasure.  Irving  rarely 
introduced  these  changes.  A  curious  one  in 
'  Macbeth  '  was  the  alteration  of  a  line — 


mto 


"  She  should  have  died  hereafter," 
"  She  would  have  died  hereafter." 


Fladgate  of  the  Garrick  Club,  a  most  interesting  man,  well  stored 
with  anecdotes  of  Kemble,  Kean,  and  others,  who,  in  the  library 
of  the  club,  gave  me  a  vivid  delineation  of  the  good  John's 
methods  in  '  The  Stranger.'  The  other  was  Mr.  Charles  Villiers. 
A  most  characteristic  incident  was  a  letter  from  the  veteran  Mrs. 
Keeley,  with  much  generous  criticism  of  Miss  Terry's  perform- 
ance, thus  showing  none  of  the  old  narrow  spirit  which  can  only 
"  praise  bygone  days."  She  frankly  added  that  until  visiting  the 
Lyceum  she  had  never  witnessed  a  performance  of  the  play  from 
one  end  to  the  other,  though  she  had  seen  many  a  great  per- 
former in  it,  and  had  herself  performed  in  it.  This  recalls  Mrs. 
Pritchard,  one  of  the  great  Lady  Macbeths,  who,  as  Dr.  Johnson 
said,  had  never  seen  the  fifth  act,  as  it  did  not  fall  within  her  part. 


204  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

That  is  a  sort  of  careless  dismissal  of  his  wife's 
death,  as  something  that  must  have  occurred,  accord- 
ing to  the  common  lot.  But  who  could  condone  the 
strange  reading  of  the  passage,  "  What,  if  we  fail," 
&c.,  to  which  Miss  Terry,  in  a  light,  pleasant  way 
replied,  "  We  fail  "  ;  in  other  words,  "Why,  we  fail — 
that's  all  "  ?  The  true,  obvious  meaning  being  "  We 
fail ! "  a  thing"  not  to  be  thought  of.  1 1  seems  incredible 
that  Irving  should  have  conceived  such  a  reading. 

The  irresolution  and  generally  dejected  tone  of 
the  Scottish  King,  as  presented  by  the  actor,  was 
much  criticised,  and  severely  too.  There  was  some- 
thing "  craven,"  it  was  said,  in  this  constant  faltering 
and  shrinking.  This,  however,  was  the  actor's  con- 
scientious "  reading  "  of  the  part  :  he  was  not  bound 
by  the  Kemble  or  Macready  traditions,  but  irre- 
sistibly impelled  to  adopt  the  highly -coloured 
"romantic"  view  of  our  day.  He  made  it 
interesting  and  picturesque,  and,  in  parts,  forcible. 
When,  later,  he  gave  readings  of  the  play,  his 
conception  had  become  firm  and  matured — it  was 
a  very  interesting  and  thoughtful  performance. 
Miss  Terry's  Lady  Macbeth  filled  every  one  with 
wonder  and  admiration  ;  as  in  the  case  of  her 
Queen  Katharine,  it  seemed  a  miracle  of  energy 
and  dramatic  inspiration  triumphing  over  physical 
difficulties  and  habitual  associations.  The  task  was 
herculean,  and  even  those  who  objected  could  not 
restrain  their  admiration.  ^ 

'  Charles    Reade's   strange,    odd   appreciation  of   this  gifted, 
mercurial  woman  is  worth  preserving  : — 

"  Ellen  Terry  is  an  enigma.      Her  eyes  are  pale,   her  nose 


'MACBETH'  205 

The  pictures  set  forth  in  this  wonderful  represen- 
tation linger  in  the  memory.  The  gloomy  Scottish 
scenes,  the  castles  and  their  halls,  the  fine  spread- 
ing landscapes,  the  treatment  of  the  witches,  and 
Banquo's  ghost,  were  all  but  perfect  in  tone,  and 
were  treated  with  a  judicious  reserve.  There  was 
nothing  overdone.  How  admirably  and  exactly, 
for  instance,  did  the  scene  correspond  to  the  beauti- 
ful lines  : — 

"  This  castle  hath  a  pleasant  seat ;  the  air 
Nimbly  and  sweetly  recommends  itself." 

There  painting  and  poetry  went  together!  The 
banqueting-hall,  the  arrangement  of  the  tables,  at 
right  angles  with  the  audience,  had  a  strange, 
barbaric  effect,  the  guests  being  disposed  in  the 
most  natural  and  unceremonious  fashion. 

After  the  run  of  '  Macbeth  '  had  ceased,  the 
manager  proceeded  to  carry  out  a  plan  which  had 
long  been  in   his  thoughts,  and    which  many  had 

rather  long,  her  mouth  nothing  particular,  complexion  a  delicate 
brick-dust,  her  hair  rather  like  tow.  Yet,  somehow,  she  is  beauti- 
ful. Her  expression  kills  any  pretty  face  you  see  beside  her.  Her 
figure  is  lean  and  bony,  her  hand  masculine  in  size  and  form. 
Yet  she  is  a  pattern  of  fawn-like  grace.  Whether  in  movement 
or  repose,  grace  pervades  the  hussy.  In  character  impulsive, 
intelligent,  weak,  hysterical — in  short,  all  that  is  abominable  and 
charming  in  woman.  Ellen  Terry  is  a  very  charming  actress. 
I  see  through  and  through  her.  Yet  she  pleases  me  all  the  same. 
Little  Duck ! " 

This  suggests  the  old  rhyme  : — 

"Thou  hast  so  many  pleasing,  teazing  ways  about  thee, 
There's  no  living  with  thee  or  without  thee." 


206  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

suggested  to  him.  This  was  to  give  "readings,"  in 
conjunction  with  Miss  Terry,  of  some  of  his  plays. 
This  would  offer  some  respite  from  the  enormous 
outlay  entailed  by  producing  these  great  pieces  at 
his  theatre,  and  which,  it  is  clear,  were  already 
straining  his  resources.  For  here  is  the  penalty  of 
this  sort  of  dram  drinkingf — the  dose  must  be  made 
strono^er  with  each  successive  draucrht.  We  found 
ourselves  gazing  vacantly  on  some  gorgeous  and 
elaborate  display  which  had  cost  time,  labour, 
and  money,  but  which  did  not  excel  previous 
efforts.  All  expected,  as  of  right,  that  he  would 
"go  one  better."  One  could  fancy  that  nothing 
cGvuld  be  more  attractive  than  such  "  readings,"  the 
interest  in  the  personality  of  the  two  great  per- 
formers being  so  generally  diffused.  He  rearranged 
'  Macbeth '  for  this  purpose,  and  set  off  on  a  tour 
in  the  provinces.  But  though  everywhere  well  re- 
ceived, I  think  the  plan  did  not  command  the  full 
success  that  was  expected.  There  was  a  defect 
somehow  in  the  plan  :  two  characters  seemed  to  rob 
the  performance  of  that  unity  which  is  the  charm 
of  a  reading.  Further,  it  was  illustrated  by  the  fine 
music,  with  orchestra,  &c.,  and  this  again  disturbed 
the  natural  simplicity  of  a  reading.  The  actor's  own 
vividly-coloured  imagination  and  tastes  could  not,  in 
fact,  be  content  with  the  bald  and  triste  mechanisms 
of  the  ordinary  reader  :  he  tried  to  impart  what 
ornamentation  he  could.  The  experiment  was  not, 
however,  carried  out  very  long.'^ 

'  It  was  interesting  to  note,  at  a  St.  James's  Hall  performance, 
June  25th,  the  pleasant,  eager  vivacity  of  the  actress,  who,  familiar 


'THE   DEAD  HEART'  207 

Some  thirty  years  before,  in  the  old  Adelphi 
days,  when  "Ben"  Webster  was  ruHng,  a  drama 
was  produced,  the  work  of  a  hard-working,  drudging 
dramatist,  Watts  Phillips.  It  was  a  pure  melodrama, 
and  people  had  not  yet  lost  their  faith  in  the  old 
devices.  There  was  an  honest  belief  that  villainy 
would  be  punished  ere  the  end  came.  By  the  laws 
of  such  pieces,  the  most  painful  situations  were 
always  contrasted  with  scenes  of  broadest  farce, 
which  were  supposed  to  relieve  the  excited  feelings. 
I  well  recall  these  humours.  On  the  revival,  how- 
ever, all  this  was  softened  away  or  abolished,  and, 
I  fancy,  not  without  injury  to  the  constitution  of 
the  old  piece. 

This  production  of  '  The  Dead  Heart '  furnished 
one  more  instance  of  the  tact  and  abilities  which 
secured  the  manager  of  the  Lyceum  his  high 
position.  Here  was  a  piece  of  an  old-fashioned 
kind,  which,  had  it  been  "revived"  at  an  ordinary 
theatre,  would  have  been  found  not  only  flat  and 
stale,  but  unprofitable  for  all  concerned.  Our 
manager,  seeing  that  it  had  dramatic  life,  enriched 
it,  brought  the  whole  into  harmony  with  the 
times,  and,  by  the  skilful  remaniejnent  o^  Vir.  Walter 
Pollock,  imparted  to  it  a  romantic  grace.  It  is 
admitted  that  he  himself  has  rarely  been  fitted  with 

as  she  was  with  the  play,  seemed  to  be  repeating  with  her  Hps 
all  the  portions  in  which  she  was  not  concerned.  In  the  more 
dramatic  portions,  it  was  plain  she  was  eager  to  be  on  the  scene 
once  more.  As  she  sat  she  anxiously  waited  for  the  orchestra  to 
come  in  at  their  proper  places,  sometime^  giving  them  the  signal. 
This  very  natural  behaviour  interested  every  one. 


208  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

a  part  so  suited  to  his  genius  and  capacities,  or  In 
which  he  has  roused  the  sympathies  of  his  audience 
more  thoroughly.  It  is  only  the  romantic  actor 
that  understands  what  might  be  called  the  key  of 
a  play. 

In  this  picturesque  part  of  Robert  Landry  were 
exhibited  no  fewer  than  four  contrasted  phases  of 
character :  the  gay,  hopeful  young  artist ;  the 
terribly  metamorphosed  prisoner  of  nearly  twenty 
years  ;  the  recently  delivered  man,  newly  restored 
to  the  enjoyment  of  life ;  and,  lastly,  the  grim  revo- 
lutionary chief,  full  of  stern  purpose  of  vengeance. 
This  offered  an  opening  for  the  display  of  versatile 
gifts,  which  were  certainly  brought  out  in  the  most 
strikinof  contrast.  But  it  was  in  the  later  scenes 
of  the  play,  when  he  appears  as  the  revolutionary 
chief,  that  our  "  manager-actor  "  exhibited  all  his 
resources.  Nothing  was  more  artistic  than  the  sense 
of  restraint  and  reserve  here  shown,  which  is  founded 
on  human  nature.  A  person  who  has  thus  suffered, 
and  with  so  stern  a  purpose  in  view,  will  be  disdain- 
ful of  speech,  and  oppressed,  as  it  were,  with  his 
terrible  design.  Quiet,  condensed  purpose,  with- 
out any  "  fiendish "  emphasis,  was  never  better 
suggested.  Even  when  the  drop-scene  is  raised, 
and  he  is  revealed  standing  by  his  table,  there  Is  the 
same  morose,  unrelenting  air,  with  an  impression 
that  here  was  one  who  had  just  passed  through  the 
fire,  and  had  been  executing  an  act  of  vengeance 
which  had  left  its  mark. 

In  a  drama  like  '  The  Dead  Heart,'  music  forms 
a  fitting  accompaniment,  furnishing  colour  and  ap- 


'RAVENSWOOD'  209 

propriate  illustration.  It  is  almost  uninterrupted 
from  beginning  to  end.  M.  Jacobi,  of  the  Alhambra, 
furnished  some  effective,  richly-coloured  strains, 
alternately  gay  and  lugubrious.  More,  however, 
might  have  been  made  of  the  stirring  "  Marseillaise," 
which  could  have  been  treated  in  various  disguises 
and  patterns  as  a  sort  of  Leitmotiv,  much  as  Litolf 
has  done  in  his  symphonic  w^ork  on  the  same  sub- 
ject. It  was  a  strange  coincidence  that  Dickens 
was  writing  his  "  Tale  of  Two  Cities"  at  the  time 
the  dramatist  was  busy  with  his  work.  There  were 
the  same  incidents  and  the  S2>.m.&  finale,  and  charges 
of  plagiarism  were  freely  made.  ^ 

A  Scotch  play — an  adaptation  of  "  The  Bride  of 
Lammermoor" — was  now  prepared  by  Mr.  Herman 
Merivale,  a  dramatist  of  much  poetical  feeling,  but 
whose  course  was  marked  by  piteous  and  disastrous 
incidents.  Buoyed  up  by  the  encouragement  and 
admiration  of  his  friends,  and  of  kindly  critics  who 
found  merit  in  all  he  did,  he  struggled  on  in  spite 
of  miserable  health  and  a  too  highly-strung  nervous 
temperament.  His  work  showed  refinement  and 
elegance,  but  it  was  more  for  the  reader  than  the 
playgoer.  A  gleam  of  prosperity,  however,  came 
when  Mr.  Toole  began  to  figure  in  the  writer's 
grotesque  pieces,  '  The  Don,'  and  others — to 
which,  indeed,  the  author's  wife  had  contributed 
some  share. 

The  new  piece,  which  was  called  '  Ravens  wood,' 
had    lain    long    in    the    manager's    cabinet,    where 

^  This  incident  will  be  found  discussed  in  my  "  Life  of 
Dickens." 

15 


210  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

reposed  a  number  of  other  MSS.,  "commanded" 
and  already  purchased,  from  the  pens  of  Wills, 
Calmour,  Frank  Marshall,  and  others.  The  latter 
had  fashioned  Robert  Emmett  into  a  picturesque 
figure,  the  figure  and  bearing  of  the  manager  having 
no  doubt  much  that  suggested  the  Irish  patriot ; 
but  the  troubled  period  of  Land  Leagues  and 
agrarian  violence  set  in  at  the  time  of  its  accept- 
ance with  an  awkward  a  propos.^  There  is  a 
character,  indeed,  in  one  of  Boz's  early  stories,  in 
which,  as  the  tradition  runs,  Irving  formerly  made 
almost  as  deep  an  impression  as  in  'The  Bells.' 
This  was  Bill  Sikes,  and  we  can  conceive  what 
a    savagery   he    would    have    imparted    to    it.      It 

'  Another  play  was  written  for  him  on  the  subject  of 
•  Mahomet,'  which  he  was  inclined  to  bring  out ;  but  here 
again  authority  interposed,  and  "invited  him,"  as  the  French 
so  politely  have  it,  to  abandon  his  purpose.  It  was  at  the  end  of 
the  summer  season  of  1879  that  our  manager,  after  naming  these 
pieces,  spoke  of  others  which  he  had  in  reserve,  either  revivals  or 
wholly  new  ones.  It  is  interesting  to  think  that  he  had  thought 
of  the  stormy  and  pathetic  '  Gamester,'  which  has  ever  an  absorb- 
ing attraction;  'The  Stranger'  also  was  spoken  of;  but  their 
treatment  would  have  offered  too  many  points  of  similarity  to 
Eugene  Aram  and  other  characters  of  "inspissated  gloom."  On 
this  occasion,  when  speaking  of  "  the  romantic  and  pathetic 
story"  of  Emmett,  he  announced  a  drama  on  the  subject  of 
Rienzi,  which  his  friend  Wills  had  prepared  for  him,  but  which 
has  never  yet  seen  the  light.  Years  have  rolled  by  swiftly  since 
that  night,  and  Wills  was  often  heard  to  bewail  the  delays  and 
impediments  which  hindered  the  production  of  what  he  no  doubt 
considered  his  finest  performance.  Another  great  drama  long 
promised  and  long  due  was  '  Coriolanus,'  for  which  Mr.  Alma 
Tadema  designed  scenery,  and  which  was  at  last  produced  a  few 
years  before  the  manager's  death. 


'RAYENSWOOD'  211 

would  seem  to  be  exactly  suited  to  his  powers 
and  to  his  special  style  ;  though,  of  course,  here 
there  would  be  a  suCT^estion  of  Dubosc.  With  Miss 
Terry  as  Nancy  here  would  have  been  opened  a 
realm  of  squalid  melodrama,  and  "  Raquin-like " 
horrors. 

There  are  other  effective  pieces  which  seemed  to 
invite  the  performance  of  this  accomplished  pair. 
Such,  for  instance,  is  the  pathetic,  heartrending 
'Venice  Preserved.'  Though  there  mig^ht  be  a 
temptation  here  for  the  scenic  artist — since  Venice, 
and  its  costumes,  &c.,  would  stifle  the  simple  pathos 
of  the  drama.  '  The  Taminof  of  the  Shrew  '  had 
been  often  suggested  and  often  thought  of,  but  it 
had  been  effectively  done  at  this  theatre  by  another 
company.  'The  Jealous  Wife' — Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Oakley — would  also  have  suited  well.  There  was 
'  The  Winter's  Tale,'  and  finally  '  Three  Weeks 
after  Marriage  ' — one  of  the  most  diverting  pieces 
of  farcical  comedy  that  can  be  conceived. 

'  Ravenswood '  was  produced  on  September  20, 
1890.  While  its  scenes  were  being  unfolded  before 
us  one  could  not  but  feel  the  general  weakness  of 
the  literary  structure,  which  was  unequal  to  the 
rich  and  costly  setting  ;  neither  did  it  correspond 
to  the  broad  and  limpid  texture  of  the  original 
story.  It  was  unfortunately  cast,  as  I  venture  to 
think.  Mackintosh,  who  performed  Caleb,  was 
somewhat  artificial;  while  Ashton/6V-'^  and  his  lady, 
rendered  by  Bishop  and  Miss  Le  Thiere,  could 
hardly  be  taken  au  sdrieux.  Irving  infused  a  deep 
and  gloomy  pathos  into  his  part,  and  Miss  Terry 


212  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

was,  as  ever,  interesting,  touching,  and  charming. 
But  the  characters,  as  was  the  story,  were  Httle 
more  than  thinly  outlined.  The  scenes,  however, 
unfolded  themselves  with  fine  spectacular  effect ; 
nothing  could  be  more  impressive  than  the  scene 
of  the  first  act — a  mountain  gorge  where  Ravens- 
wood  has  come  for  the  entombment  of  his  father, 
and  is  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  his  enemy, 
Ashton.  The  weird-like  last  scene,  the  "  Kelpie 
Sands,"  with  the  cloak  lying  on  the  place  of  dis- 
appearance, the  retainer  gazing  in  despair,  was  one 
of  Irving's  finely  poetical  conceptions,  but  it  was 
more  spectacular  than  dramatic.  The  truth  is, 
where  there  is  so  great  a  theatre,  and  where  all 
arts  are  supplied  to  set  off  a  piece  in  sumptuous 
style,  these  elements  require  substantial  stuff  to 
support  them,  otherwise  the  effect  becomes  trivial 
in  exact  proportion  to  the  adornment. 

It  was  at  the  Christmas  season  of  1891  that  the 
manager  was  enabled  to  carry  out  a  plan  that  had  for 
years  been  before  him — a  revival  of  '  Henry  VI II.' 
We  can  quite  conceive  how,  as  the  fashion  always 
was  with  him,  the  play  ripened  as  it  were  with 
meditation  ;  how,  as  he  walked  or  followed  the 
consolinsf  fumes  of  his  ciofar  in  his  chamber  at 
Grafton  Street,  each  scene  fell  into  shape  or 
suggested  some  new  and  effective  arrangement, 
which  again  might  be  discarded  as  difficulties 
arose,  or  as  something  happier  occurred  to  him. 
The  result  of  these  meditations  was  unquestion- 
ably a  "large"  and  splendid  setting  of  the  play, 
which,  to  my  mind,  whatever  be  the  value  of  the 


'HENRY   VIIi;  213 

opinion,  is  certainly  one  of  the  finest,  most  finished, 
most  poetical,  and  sufficient  of  the  many  works 
that  he  set  before  us."  There  was  a  greater  Shake- 
spearian propriety,  and  the  adornments,  however 
lavish,  might  all  be  fairly  justified.  Most  to  be 
admired  was  the  supreme  elegance  of  touch  found 
in  every  direction — acting,  scenery,  dresses,  music, 
all  reflected  the  one  cultivated  mind.  The  truth  is, 
long  practice  and  the  due  measuring  of  his  own 
exertion  had  supplied  an  ease  and  boldness  in  his 
effects.  To  appreciate  this  excellence  we  have 
only  to  turn  to  similar  attempts  made  by  others, 
whether  managers  or  manager-actors,  or  manager- 
authors — when  we  find  only  the  conventional  ex- 
ertion of  the  scene-painter  and  stage-manager. 
They  have  not  the  same  inspiration. 

This  play,   produced    on    January   5,    1892,   was 
received    with   great   enthusiasm.      It    became    "a 


^  An  American  lady,  a  Californian  artist,  was  the  first  to  enter 
tlie  pit  for  the  opening  performance  of  '  Henry  VIII.'  at  the 
Lyceum.  "  I  and  a  friend  went  with  our  camp-stools  and  took 
our  places  next  the  door  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning.  We  were 
provided  with  a  volume  of  Harper^s  Magazine^  a  sketch-book, 
writing-paper,  and  a  fountain-pen,  caricatures  of  Henry  Irving, 
and  much  patience.  A  newspaper  spread  under  the  feet  and  a 
Japanese  muff  warmer,  with  sandwiches  and  a  bottle  of  wine, 
kept  us  comfortable.  Two  ladies  were  the  next  comers,  and 
shortly  a  crowd  began  to  collect.  Real  amusing  it  was,  but  not 
very  elegant.  After  about  two  hours  Mr.  Bram  Stoker  came  and 
had  a  look  at  us,  and  cheered  our  hearts  by  telling  us  that  tea 
would  be  served  from  the  neighbouring  saloon  (public-house). 
At  last,  at  seven  o'clock,  we  were  rewarded  for  our  patience  by 
getting  seats  in  the  front  row.  The  play  was  superb,  and  the 
audience — well,  every  one  looked  as  if  he  had  done  something." 


214  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

common  form "  of  criticism  to  repeat  that  it  was 
of  doubtful  authorship  ;  that  it  was  nothing  but  a 
number  of  scenes  strung  together ;  that  there  was 
no  story  ;  that  Buckingham  vanished  almost  at  the 
beginning  of  the  play ;  and  that  towards  the  end, 
Wolsey  vanished  also.  These,  as  I  venture  to  say, 
are  but  ignorant  objections  ;  characters  will  always 
supply  a  dramatic  story,  or  a  dramatic  interest  that 
amounts  to  a  story,  and  in  the  fate  of  Wolsey  and 
of  Katharine,  gradually  developed  and  worked  out, 
we  had  surely  a  story  sufficiently  interesting. 

I  have  little  doubt  that  Irving  kept  steadily  in 
view  the  object  the  great  author  had  before  him, 
viz.,  to  present  a  page  of  history  enriched  by  all 
the  suitable  accompaniments  of  dress  and  manners 
and  customs.  In  this  he  was  perfectly  and  trium- 
phantly successful.  We  were  taken  into  the  great 
chambers  and  tribunals ;  shown  the  ecclesiastical 
pomp  and  state,  so  difficult  to  conceive  of  now  ;  the 
processions  passing  through  the  streets,  and  pre- 
sented in  an  exceedingly  natural  and  unconven- 
tional fashion.^  The  drama  was  set  forth  fully, 
with  every  adjunct  of  dress,  furniture,  scenes,  and 
numbers  of  auxiliaries. 

The  scenery,  offering  wonderful  perspectives  of 

^  As  an  instance  of  the  manager's  happy  touch  in  a  trifling 
matter,  we  might  name  the  State  trumpets  constantly  "  blaring  " 
and  sounding  as  the  King  approached,  which  offered  nothing 
of  the  usual  "  super  "  arrangement.  The  men  seemed  to  tramp 
along  the  street  as  though  conscious  of  their  own  dignity,  warn- 
ing those  whom  it  might  concern  to  make  way  for  their  high 
and  puissant  lord. 


Irving  as  "Cardinal  Wolsev." 
Photo  by  W.  &  D.  Downey,  57  Ebury  St.,  SAV. 


To  face  p.  21-1 


'HENRY   VIII.'  215 


Tudor  halls  and  interiors,  the  arrangements  of  the 
courts  and  various  meetings,  were  original  and 
very  striking.  Yet  here  I  should  be  inclined  to 
suggest  anew  the  objections  often  made  to  the 
modern  system  of  large  groupings  compressed 
into  the  small  area  of  a  stage,  which,  as  it  seems, 
is  opposed  to  the  canons  of  scenic  art.^  These, 
too,  seemed  to  acquire  new  force  from  the  arrange- 
ment of  the  "  Trial  Scene,"  as  it  was  called,  which 
displayed  a  great  hall  with  the  dais,  seats  for  the 
Cardinal,  the  King,  8lc.  This  was,  of  course,  only 
of  the  size  of  the  stage — about  a  third,  perhaps, 
of  the  original.  The  result  of  thus  supplying  a  great 
area  by  the  system  of  compression  (I  am  speaking 
merely  of  the  principle),  is  that  the  leading  figures 
become  dwindled  in  scale  and  overpowered  by  the 
surrounding  crowd.  The  contrast  with  the  older 
system  is  brought  out  by  Harlow's  well-known 
picture,  where  only  the  leading  figures  are  grouped, 
and  where  by  consequence  they  stand  out  in  greater 
relief.  The  spectator  stands,  as  it  were,  close  beside 
them  ;  but  by  the  modern  arrangement  he  appears 
to  be  afar  off,  at  the  bottom  of  the  hall,  obtaining 
but  a  distant  view  of  them.^ 

*  It  was  publicly  stated  that  the  "  mounting  "  of  this  play  had 
cost  ;^i 5,000,  and  that  the  weekly  expenses  were  some  ;^8oo. 
The  manager  wrote  to  contradict  this,  as  being  altogether  beyond 
the  truth  ;  though,  he  added,  with  a  sigh  as  it  were,  that  he 
heartily  wished  the  second  statement  were  true,  and  that  the 
expenses  could  be  put  at  so  low  a  figure. 

'  According  to  one  writer,  "  an  emissary  was  sent  to  Rome  to 
acquire  a  Cardinal's  robe.  After  some  time  a  friend  managed 
to  secure  one  of  the  very  period,  whereupon  an  exact  copy,  'both 


216  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

When  we  consider  what  are  the  traditions  of  the 
two  great  characters,  how  vivid  they  are,  from  the 
deep  impressions  left  by  the  great  brother  and  sister 
on  their  contemporaries — an  impression  which  has 
really  extended  to  our  time — too  much  praise  could 
hardly  be  given  to  the  performance  of  Irving  and 
his  gifted  companion.  Irving's  Wolsey  was  exactly 
what  those  familiar  with  his  other  impersonations 
could  anticipate — poetical,  elegant,  and  in  many 
portions  powerful.  He  was  the  Churchman  to 
perfection,  carrying  his  robes  admirably  ;  in  the 
face  there  was  a  suggestion  of  the  late  departed 
Cardinal  Manning.  All  through  the  piece  there 
was  that  picturesque  acting  which  fills  the  eye,  not 
the  ear,  at  the  moment  when  speech  is  at  rest.  It 
is  thus  that  are  confuted  those  theorists,  including 
Elia,  who  hold  that  Shakespeare  is  to  be  read,  not 
acted. 

It  is,   perhaps,  the  power  of  suggestion  and   of 

of  colour  and  texture,'  was  made.  A  price  has  to  be  paid  for 
scenic  splendours  in  the  shape  of  the  delays  that  they  necessarily 
occasion.  Thanks  to  the  ingenuity  of  stage-carpenters  and 
machinists,  these  delays  at  the  Lyceum  are  reduced  to  a  mini- 
mum time.  '  Henry  VIIL'  being  not  one  of  the  longest  of 
the  plays — though  it  is  one-third  longer  than  '  Macbeth ' — the 
text  at  the  Lyceum  has  been  treated  with  comparative  leniency. 
'  Hamlet,'  on  the  other  hand,  which  comprises  nearly  four 
thousand  lines,  cannot  on  the  modern  system  of  sumptuous 
mounting  possibly  be  given  in  anything  approaching  its  en- 
tirety." As  a  fact,  very  nearly  one-half  the  play  disappears 
from  the  modern  acting  copies.  My  friend,  Mr.  W.  Pollock, 
in  a  paper  in  the  National  Review,  has  justly  urged  in  this 
connection  that  half  a  '  Hamlet '  is  better  than  no  '  Hamlet ' 
at  all. 


•HENRY  VIII.'  217 

stirring  our  imagination  that  brings  about  this  air 
of  fulness  and  richness.  Irving,  when  he  was  not 
speaking,  acted  the  pomp  and  state  and  consum- 
mately depicted  the  smoothness  of  the  Cardinal. 
When  he  was  lost  to  view  you  felt  the  application 
of  the  oft-quoted  line  touching  the  absence  of  "  the 
well-ofrac'd  "  actor  from  the  scene  ;  and  it  was  won- 
derful  to  think,  as  we  glanced  round  the  brilliant 
salle — glittering  with  its  vast  crowd  of  well-dressed, 
even  jewelled,  women  ("Quite  an  opera  pit!"  as 
Ellison  would  say) — to  the  fine  stage  before  us, 
with  its  showy  figures,  pictures,  and  pageants, 
that  all  this  was  his  work  and  of  his  creation  ! 

There  were  many  diverse  criticisms  on  Irving's 
conception  of  this  famous  character  ;  some  held  that 
it  was  scarcely  "  large,"  rude,  or  overbearing  enough. 
His  view,  however,  as  carried  out,  seemed  natural 
and  consistent.  The  actor  wished  to  exhibit  the 
character  as  completely  overwhelmed  by  adverse 
fortune  ;  witness  Macbeth,  Othello,  and  many  other 
characters.  In  the  last  great  soliloquy  it  was  urged 
there  was  a  want  of  variety.  Still,  allowing  for  all 
traditional  defects,  it  stands  beyond  contradiction 
that  it  was  a  "romantic"  performance,  marked  by 
"distinction,"  and  a  fine  grace  ;  far  superior  to  the 
thin  theatrical  clericalism  of  "  Becket "  ;  and  we 
might  vainly  look  around  for  any  performer  of  our 
time  who  could  impart  so  poetical  a  cast  to  the 
character.  And  we  may  add  a  praise  which  I  am 
specially  qualified  to  give,  viz.,  that  he  was  the 
perfect  ecclesiastic  :  as  he  sat  witnessing  the  revels, 
now  disturbed,  now  careless — there  was  the  Church- 


218  SIR  HENRY   IRVING 

man  revealed  ;  he  was  not,  as  was  the  case  with  so 
many  others,  a  performer  robed  in  clerical  garb. 

Of  Miss  Terry's  Queen  Katharine,  it  can  be  said 
that  it  was  an  astonishing  performance,  and  took 
even  her  admirers  by  surprise.  She  made  the  same 
almost  gigantic  effort  as  she  did  in  '  Macbeth '  to 
interpret  a  vast  character,  one  that  might  have 
seemed  beyond  her  strength,  physical  as  well 
as  mental.  By  sheer  force  of  will  and  genius 
she  contrived  to  triumph.  It  was  not,  of  course,  the 
great  Queen  Katharine  of  Mrs.  Siddons,  nor  did  she 
awe  and  command  all  about  her ;  but  such  earnest- 
ness and  reality  and  dramatic  power  did  she  impart 
to  the  character  that  she  seemed  to  supply  the 
absence  of  greater  gifts.  Her  performance  at  the 
Court  and  other  scenes  of  the  persecuted,  hunted 
woman,  now  irritated,  now  resigned,  was  truly 
pathetic  and  realistic.  There  may  have  been 
absent  the  overpowering,  queen-like  dignity,  the 
state  and  heroism,  but  it  was  impossible  to  resist 
her — it  was  her  *'  way,"  and  by  this  way  she  gained 
all  hearts.  It  must  be  confessed  that  nothing  ever 
supplied  such  an  idea  of  the  talents  and  "  cleverness  " 
of  this  truly  brilliant  woman  as  her  victory  over  the 
tremendous  difficulties  of  these  parts.  The  per- 
formance won  her  the  sympathies  of  all  in  an 
extraordinary  degree. 

So  admirably  had  our  manager  been  penetrated 
with  the  spirit  of  the  scenes,  that  he  was  enabled  to 
present  them  in  a  natural  and  convincing  way,  and 
seemed  to  revive  the  whole  historic  time  and  mean- 
ing of  the  situation.     This  was  particularly  shown 


'HENRY   VIIL'  219 

in  the  scene  when  Buckingham  is  led  to  execution  ; 
his  address  to  the  crowd  was  dehvered  with  so 
natural  a  fashion,  with  such  judicious  and  pathetic 
effect,  that  it  not  only  gained  admiration  for  the 
performance,  but  brought  the  scene  itself  within 
range  of  every-day  life.  For,  instead  of  the  old 
conventional  declamatory  speech  to  a  stage  crowd, 
we  had  some  "  words  "  which  the  sufferer,  on  enter- 
ing the  boat,  stopped  for  a  moment  to  address  to 
sympathisers  who  met  him  on  the  way. 

The  music,  the  work  of  a  young  composer,  Mr. 
Edward  German,  was  truly  romantic  and  expressive  ; 
stately  and  richly-coloured.  How  wonderful,  by  the 
way,  is  the  progress  made  of  late  years  in  theatrical 
music  !  We  have  now  a  group  of  composers  who 
expend  their  talents  and  elegancies  in  the  adorn- 
ment of  the  stas^e.  The  flowinor  melodies  and 
stately  marches  of  the  Lyceum  music  still  linger  in 
the  ear,  while  portions,  such  as  the  dances,  &c., 
have  become  stock  pieces  for  orchestras. 

It  was  in  January,  1892,  when  he  was  performing 
in  '  Henry  VIII.,' that  a  very  alarming  piece  of 
news,  much  magnified  by  report,  reached  him.  His 
son  Laurence  was  playing  at  Belfast  in  the  Benson 
Company,  and  had  by  some  accident  shot  himself 
with  a  revolver ;  this  casualty  was  exaggerated  to 
an  extraordinary  degree.  Three  local  doctors  issued 
bulletins  ;  "  the  lung  had  been  pierced  " — until  the 
anxious  father  at  last  sent  over  an  experienced  sur- 
geon, Mr.  Lawson  Tait,  who  was  able  to  report  that 
the  wound  was  trivial,  and  the  weapon  a  sort  of  "  toy 
pistol."    Much  sympathy  was  excited  by  this  casualty. 


CHAPTER  XV 

1892 

'  KING    LEAR  ' — '  BECKET  ' 

AFTER  presenting  so  many  of  Shakespeare's 
great  dramas,  it  was  to  be  expected  that  the 
manager  could  not  well  pass  by  what  has  been 
justly  styled  the  Titanic  play  of  '  King  Lear.'  This 
had,  indeed,  always  been  in  his  thoughts  ;  but  he 
naturally  shrank  from  the  tremendous  burden  and 
physical  strain  that  it  entailed.  It  was  prepared  in 
his  usual  sumptuous  style.  There  were  sixteen 
changes  of  scene  and  twenty-two  characters,  and 
the  music  was  furnished  by  Hamilton  Clarke.  The 
scenery  was  divided  between  Craven  and  Harker, 
the  latter  a  very  effective  artist  of  the  same  school. 
There  were  some  beautiful  romantic  effects :  the 
halls,  the  heath,  and  notably  the  Dover  scenes,  were 
exquisite.  I  doubt  if  their  presentation  has  been 
excelled  by  any  preceding  attempts.  The  barbaric 
tone  and  atmosphere  of  the  piece  was  conveyed  to 
perfection,  without  being  insisted  on  or  emphasised. 
It  is  only  when  we  compare  the  ambitious  attempts 
of  other    managers    who   would   indulge  in   effects 

320 


'KING  LEAR'  221 

equally  lavish  and  sumptuous,  that  we  recognise  the 
ability,  ease,  reserve  and  force  of  the  Lyceum 
manager. I  They,  too,  will  have  their  "archaeology  " 
and  their  built-up  temples,  designed  by  painters  of 
repute,  and  crowds  ;  but  there  is  present  only  the 
sense  of  stage  effect  and  the  flavour  of  the  supernu- 
merary. The  secret  is  the  perfect  subordination  of 
such  details  to  the  general  effect.  They  should  be, 
like  the  figures  on  a  tapestry,  indistinct,  but  effective 
as  a  background.  Charles  Lamb's  well-worn  dictum, 
that '  Lear '  should  never  be  acted,  was  trotted  forth 
in  every  criticism.  There  is  some  truth  in  this 
exaggerated  judgment,  because  it  can  never  be 
adequately  presented,  and  the  performance  must 
always  fall  short  of  the  original  grandeur.  With  his 
remarks  on  the  pettiness  of  the  stage-storm,  one 
would  be  inclined  to  agree,  even  on  this  occasion, 
when  every  art  was  exhausted  to  convey  the  notion 
of  the  turmoil  of  the  elements.  The  truth  is,  an 
audience  sitting  in  the  stalls  and  boxes  will  never  be 
seduced  into  accepting  the  rollings  and  crashings  of 
cannon-balls  aloft,  and  the  flashing  of  lycopodium, 
as  suggesting  the  awful  warring  of  the  elements. 
'  King  Lear  '  was  brought  forward  on  Thursday, 

^  To  illustrate  his  most  recent  productions,  the  manager  was 
accustomed  to  issue  what  is  called  "a  souvenir,"  an  artistic  series 
of  pictures  of  the  scenes,  groupings,  &c.  It  may  be  added,  as  a 
proof  of  the  pictorial  interest  of  the  Lyceum  productions,  that  in 
little  more  than  a  week  after  the  first  performance  of  '  Becket '  no 
fewer  than  five-and-twenty  illustrations,  some  of  great  pretension, 
had  appeared  in  the  papers.  On  the  first  night  of  '  Lear '  a 
marchioness  of  artistic  tastes  was  seen  making  sketches,  which 
were  published  in  an  evening  paper. 


222  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

November  lo,  1892,  and  its  presentation  was  a  truly 
romantic  one.  The  figure  had  little  of  the  usual 
repulsive  aspects  of  age — the  clumsy  white  beard, 
&c. — but  was  picturesque.  The  entry  into  his 
barbaric  court,  the  strange  retainers  with  their 
head-dresses  of  cows'  horns,  was  striking  and 
original.  The  whole  conception  was  human.  The 
"  curse  "  was  delivered  naturally.  In  presenting, 
however,  the  senile  ravings  of  the  old  monarch,  the 
actor  unavoidably  assumed  an  indistinctness  of 
utterance,  and  many  sentences  were  lost.  This 
imperfection  was  dwelt  on  in  the  criticisms  with 
superfluous  iteration,  and  though  the  actor  speedily 
amended  and  became  almost  emphatically  distinct, 
this  notion  seemed  to  have  settled  in  the  public 
mind,  with  some  prejudice  to  the  success  of  the 
piece.  Though  he  was  thus  quick  to  remedy  this 
blemish,  distinctness  had  to  be  secured  by  delibera- 
tion, and  at  some  loss  of  effect.  The  actor's  extra- 
ordinary exertions — for  he  was  at  the  same  time 
busy  with  the  preparation  of  a  new  piece — 
exhausted  him,  and  obliged  him  for  some  nights  to 
entrust  the  part  to  another.  But  the  real  obstacle 
to  full  success  could  be  found  in  the  general  lugu- 
brious tone  of  the  character ;  the  uninterrupted 
sequence  of  horrors  and  distresses  led  to  a  feeling  of 
monotony  difficult  for  the  actor  to  vanquish.  The 
public  never  takes  very  cordially  to  pieces  in  which 
there  is  this  sustained  misery,  though  it  can  relish 
the  alternations  of  poignant  tragedy  attended  by 
quick  dramatic  changes.  Cordelia,  though  a  small 
part,  was  made  prominent  by  much  touching  pathos 


TENNYSON  223 

and  grace,  and  the  dying  recognition   by    the    old 
King  brought  tears  to  many  eyes.^ 

An  interesting  feature  in  Irving's  career  had  been 
his  long  friendship  with  Tennyson,  poet  and  drama- 
tist, which  lasted  for  some  fifteen  or  sixteen  years. 
The  actor  had  shown  his  appreciation  of  the  poet's 
gifts  by  the  rather  hazardous  experiment  of  present- 
ing two  of  his  poetical  dramas  to  the  public.  We 
have  seen  what  sumptuous  treatment  was  accorded 
to  '  The  Cup  '  ;  and  in  '  Queen  Mary  '  the  actor 
contributed  his  most  powerful  dramatic  efforts  in  the 
realisation  of  the  grim  Philip.^ 

The  poet,  however,  made  little  allowance  for  the 
exigencies  of  the  stage.  During  the  preparation  of 
'  The  Cup,'  he  contended  eagerly  for  the  retention 
of  long  speeches  and  scenes,  which  would  have 
shipwrecked  the  piece.  Yet,  undramatic  as  most  of 
his  dramas  are,  a  taste  for  them  was  springing  up, 
and  not  long  before  his  death  he  had  the  gratification 
of  knowing  that   his    '  Foresters  '    had    met    with 

'  One  touch,  which  might  escape  the  superficial,  showed  the 
fine,  delicate  sense  of  the  manager.  The  scene  where  Kent  is 
exhibited  in  the  stocks  has  always  suggested  something  grotesque 
and  prosaic.  It  was  here  so  dignified  in  its  treatment  as  to 
become  almost  pathetic.  I  may  add  here  that  the  deepest 
strokes  of  Shakespeare,  not  being  on  the  surface,  are  apt  to  escape 
us  altogether,  save  when  some  inspired  critic  lays  his  finger  on 
them.  The  faithful  Kent  at  the  close  is  brought  to  his  master's 
notice,  who  does  not  recognise  him.  Here  Lamb  points  out  how 
noble  is  Kent's  self-sacrifice  in  not  bringing  himself  to  the  King's 
recollection. 

^  As  I  write,  Whistler's  portrait  of  him  in  this  character — a 
picture,  dark,  misty  and  colourless — was  sold  for  over  ^3,000. 


224  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

surprising  success  in  America.  No  less  than  six 
pieces  of  his  have  been  produced,  and  though  the 
idea  prevails  that  he  has  been  "a  failure"  as  a 
dramatist,  it  will  be  found  that  on  the  whole  he  has 
been  successful.  It  may  be  that  by  and  by  he  will 
be  in  higher  favour.  But  he  will  have  owed  much 
to  Irving,  not  merely  for  presenting  his  plays  with 
every  advantage,  but  for  putting  them  into  fitting 
shape,  with  firm,  unerring  touch  removing  all  that 
is  superfluous. 

So  far  back  as  the  year  1879  the  poet  had  placed 
in  Irving's  hands  a  drama  on  the  subject  of  Becket 
and  the  fair  Rosamund.  It  was  really  a  poem  of 
moderate  length,  though  in  form  a  drama,  and  the 
actor  naturally  shrank  from  the  difficulties  of  dealing 
with  such  a  piece.  The  "  pruning  knife  "  would  here 
have  been  of  little  avail;  the  axe  or  "chopper" 
would  have  to  be  used  unsparingly.  The  piece  was 
accordingly  laid  aside  for  that  long  period ;  the 
lamented  death  of  the  poet  probably  removed  the 
chief  obstacle  to  its  production.^  It  was  repeated, 
indeed,  that  almost  one-half  was  cut  away  before  it 
could  be  put  in  shape  for  performance.  On  Monday, 
February  6,  1893 — ^^  actor's  birthday — this  posthu- 
mous piece  was  brought  out  with  every  advantage, 
and  before  an  assemblasfe  even  more  brilliant  than 
usual.  It  revived  the  memories  of  the  too  recent 
'  Henry  VIII.,' in  which  there  is  much  the  same 
struggle  between  Prince  and  Bishop.  The  actor 
has    thus    no    less    than    three    eminent    Catholic 

^  It  has   been   said   however,   that   the  poet  learned  on  his 
death-bed  of  the  actor's  intentions. 


'  BECKET '  225 

ecclesiastics  in  his  repertoire — Richelieu,  Wolsey, 
and  Becket ;  but,  as  he  pleasantly  said,  he  could 
contrast  with  these  an  English  clergyman,  the 
worthy  Dr.  Primrose,  Vicar  of  Wakefield.  Yet  he 
admirably  and  dramatically  distinguished  their 
several  characters. 

There  is  always  a  curiosity  to  have  the  curtain 
lifted,  so  that  we  may  have  a  glimpse  of  a  play  in 
the  throes  and  troubles  of  rehearsal.  A  writer 
in  one  of  the  magazines  gave  a  very  dramatic 
sketch  of  how  thing^s  were  conducted  during-  the 
preparation  of  '  Becket ' : — 

"  After  Mr.  Irving  has  grouped  the  men  on  the 
benches,  he  steps  back  and  looks  at  the  table.  'We 
ought  to  have  on  it  some  kind  of  mace  or  crozier,' 
he  says — '  a  large  crozier.  Now  for  the  "  make-up." 
All  the  barons  and  every  one  who  has  a  moustache 
must  wear  a  small  beard.  All  the  gentlemen  who 
have  no  beards  remain  unshaven.  All  the 
priests  and  bishops  are  unshaven.  The  mob  can 
have  slight  beards,  but  this  is  unimportant.  Now, 
take  off  your  hats,  gentlemen,  please.  Some  of  you 
must  be  old,  some  young.  Hair  very  short;'  and 
he  passes  from  group  to  group  selecting  the  different 
people.  '  Now,  I  think  that  is  all  understood  pretty 
well.     Where  are  the  sketches  for  dresses  .^ ' 

"  The  sketches  are  brought,  and  he  goes  carefully 
through  them.  Miss  Terry  and  Mr.  Terriss  also 
look  over  the  big  white  sheets  of  paper.  The  fox- 
terrier  strolls  up  to  the  group,  gives  a  glance  at 
them,  and  walks  back  again  to  Miss  Terry's  chair 
with    a  slighdy    cynical    look.     Then    Mr.    Irving 

16 


226  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

returns  to  the  groups  by  the  benches.  '  Remember, 
gentlemen,  you  must  be  arguing  here,  laying  down 
the  law  in  this  way,'  suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 
*  Just  arrange  who  is  to  argue.  Don't  do  it  pro- 
miscuously, but  three  or  four  of  you  together.  Try 
to  put  a  little  action  into  it.  I  want  you  to  show 
your  arms,  and  not  to  keep  them  glued  to  your  sides 
like  trussed  fowls.  No  ;  that  isn't  half  enough 
action.  Don't  be  frightened.  Better  make  too 
much  noise  rather  than  too  little,  but  don't  stop  too 
suddenly.  Start  arguing  when  I  ring  the  first  bell. 
As  I  ring  the  second  bell,  you  see  me  enter,  and 
stop.'  The  dog  stands  one  bell,  but  the  second 
annoys  him,  and  he  disappears  from  the  stage 
altogether,  until  the  people  on  the  benches  have 
finished  their  discussion. 

"  Mr.  Irving  next  tries  the  three-cornered  stools 
which  are  placed  around  the  table,  but  prefers 
square  ones.  The  dog  returns,  walks  over  to  the 
orchestra,  looks  vainly  for  a  rat,  and  retreats  under 
the  table  in  the  centre  of  the  stage  as  if  things  were 
getting  really  too  much  for  him.  But  his  resting- 
place  is  ill-chosen,  for  presently  half  a  dozen  angry 
lords  jump  on  the  table,  and  he  is  driven  forth  once 
more.  After  a  stormy  scene  with  the  lords,  Mr. 
Irving  walks  up  the  steps  again.  '  When  I  say  "  I 
depart,"  you  must  let  me  get  up  the  steps.  All  this 
time  your  pent-up  anger  is  waiting  to  burst  out  sud- 
denly. Don't  go  to  sleep  over  it'  He  looks  at  the 
table  in  the  centre  of  the  stage,  and  turns  to  a  car- 
penter. 'This  table  will  never  do.  It  has  to  be 
jumped    on    by  so    many  people    that    it   must    be 


[I>,-aini  I'll  C.  .1.  Iltichrl. 


iu\im;    as    "  HKCKi'.r.'' 


Jl'o  fiicc  I'dije  226. 


'  BECKET  *  227 

very  strong.     They  follow  me.'     (To  Miss  Terry) 
'  They'd  better  catch  hold  of  me,  up  the  steps  here.' 

"  Miss  Terry  :  '  They  must  do  something.  They 
can't  stand  holding  you  like  that.' 

"Mr.  Irving:  'No.'  The  door  opens  suddenly 
at  top  of  steps,  and  discovers  the  crowd,  who 
shout,  '  Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of 
the   Lord.' 

"The  doors  open  and  the  crowd  shout,  but  the 
effect  is  not  good. 

"  Miss  Terry  :  '  It  would  be  better  if  it  were  done 
at  the  foot  of  the  steps.  The  people  needn't  show 
their  faces  as  they  do  it,  and  the  effect  will  be  so 
much  better.'"  '  Becket '  contained  thirty  charac- 
ters, and  was  set  off  by  fine  scenery  and  excellent 
music,  written  specially  by  Professor  Stanford,  this 
not  being  the  first  time  his  notes  had  been  associ- 
ated with  the  poet. 

Never  had  Irving's  efforts  been  greeted  with  such 
overpowering,  tumultuous  applause.  At  the  end  of 
every  act  there  were  as  many  as  five  "recalls."  In 
such  pieces,  as  well  as  in  some  of  Shakespeare's, 
there  is  always  a  matter  of  interesting  debate  in 
fixing  the  era,  dresses,  architecture,  &c. — points 
perhaps  of  less  importance  than  is  supposed.  Irving's 
conception  of  '  Becket '  was  truly  picturesque  and 
romantic  ;  he  imported  a  pathetic  tone,  with  a  sort 
of  gloomy  foreboding  of  the  impending  martyrdom, 
conveyed  by  innumerable  touches.  The  actor  had 
the  art  of  moulding  his  features  and  expression  to 
the  complexion  of  the  character  he  was  performing 
nightly.     Thus,   in  '  Becket,'   it  could  be  seen  that 


228  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

he  had  already  assumed  the  meditative,  wary  look 
of  the  aspiring-  ecclesiastic. 

It  is  evidence  of  the  interest  excited  by  '  Becket,' 
that  a  little  discussion  arose  between  a  Benedictine 
Father  and  another  ecclesiastic  on  the  hymn,  "Tel- 
luris  ingens  Conditor,"  which  was  played  in  the 
cathedral  scene  and  through  the  piece.  The 
Benedictine  contended  that  it  must  have  been  some 
older  form  of  the  hymn  before  the  pseudo-classifica- 
tion "of  the  Breviary  Hymns  in  the  sixteenth 
century."  "I  do  not  suppose,"  he  added,  ''that 
Mr.  Irving's  well-known  attention  to  detail  extends 
to  such  mmutiiB  as  these.  The  famous  cathedral 
scene,  in  his  presentment  of  '  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing,'  was  received  with  a  chorus  of  praise  as  a 
marvel  of  liturgical  accuracy.  But  I  am  told  that  to 
Catholic  eyes  at  least  some  of  its  details  appeared 
incorrect."  Thus,  to  the  monastery  even,  did  the 
fame  of  our  manager's  efforts  reach  ! 

One  of  the  most  remarkable  things  connected 
with  '  Becket '  was  the  unanimous  applause  and 
approbation  of  the  entire  press. ^     Even  one  or  two 

'  On  March  i8,  1893,  Irving  and  his  whole  company  were 
bidden  to  Windsor  Castle  to  play  'Becket '  before  her  late  Majesty. 
A  theatre  was  fitted  up  in  the  Waterloo  Chamber ;  special  scenery 
was  painted;  the  Lyceum  was  closed;  and  the  company,  170 
strong,  was  transported  to  Windsor  and  brought  back  on  the  same 
night.  The  performance  was  given  with  much  effect  and  to  the 
enjoyment  of  the  Queen.  Some  three  or  four  years  before,  a  no 
less  interesting  entertainment  was  arranged  at  Sandringham  by 
the  Prince  of  Wales,  who  was  anxious  that  Her  Majesty  should  see 
the  two  favourite  performers  in  their  most  effective  pieces — 'The 
Bells '  and  the  "  Trial  scene  "  in  '  The  Merchant  of  Venice.'     The 


Irving  Reading  Tennyson's  '   Beckf.t   " 

IN    THE    R^;ST()REI)    C  H  AfTE  R-Hol'SV.    OE    CaNTERULRY    CaTHEHRAI 

Drawn  by  S.  Be^n. 


r<,f<!ccp.  22S. 


'BECKET'  229 

evening  papers,  which  had  spoken  with  a  Httle  hesi- 
tation, returned  to  the  subject  a  few  nights  later  to 
correct  their  judgment  and  to  admit  that  they  had 
been  hasty.  All  confessed  that  they  had  been 
captivated  by  the  picturesqueness  of  the  central 
figure. 

For  Tennyson  he  always  retained  the  warmest 
regard.  "  Lord  Tennyson,"  he  once  observed,  "  was 
one  of  the  greatest  of  men,  and  one  of  the  dearest 
and  best  of  friends.  One  of  the  most  touching 
incidents  which  I  remember  occurred  while  he  was 
on  his  death-bed.  You  know  that  some  of  his  plays 
lacked  playing  qualities.  One  night  before  his  death 
he  turned  to  his  physician,  Dr.  Dabbs,  who  told  me 
of  the  incident,  and  said  :  '  I  suppose  I  shall  never 
see  "Becket"?'  'I  fear  not,'  said  the  doctor. 
'When  do  they  produce  "  Becket"  ?'  'I  think  in 
May,'  was  the  reply.  '  They  did  not  do  me  justice 
with  "  The  Promise  of  May,"  '  said  the  dying  poet  ; 
'but  Irving  will  do  me  justice  in  "Becket."  '  Of 
that  remark  and  confidence  I  was  justly  proud," 
concluded  Irving.  He  once  suggested  Dante  as 
the  theme  for  a  play.  Tennyson  at  first  seemed 
pleased  with  the  subject,  but  after  thinking  for  a  few 
moments  he  said  slowly,  "  Yes  ;  but  where  would 


outlay  of  time,  trouble,  and  skilful  management  to  provide  for 
all  the  arrangements  within  a  short  space  of  time  can  scarcely  be 
imagined.  The  pecuniary  cost,  owing  to  the  closing  of  the  theatre, 
transport,  &c.,  was  serious.  Yet  the  general  impression,  on  the 
whole,  was  that  Her  Majesty  did  not  relish,  or  perhaps  did  not 
quite  understand,  this  new  school  of  acting,  being  accustomed 
to  more  old-fashioned  methods. 


230  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

you  find  a  Dante  to  writei  it  ?  "     And  he  thereupon 
gave  up  the  idea. 

Apart  from  his  professional  gifts,  Irving  was 
assuredly  one  of  those  figures  that  filled  the  public 
eye,  and  of  which  there  are  but  few.  This  was 
owing  to  a  sort  of  sympathetic  attraction,  and  to  an 
absence  of  affectation.  He  played  many  parts  in 
the  social  scheme,  and  always  did  so  with  judicious- 
ness, contributing  to  the  effect  of  the  situation.  His 
utterances  on  most  subjects  were  thoughtful  and  well 
considered,  and  contributed  to  the  enlightenment 
of  the  case.  At  his  examination  by  the  London 
County  Council,  when  many  absurd  questions  were 
put  to  him,  he  answered  with  much  sagacity.  His 
views  on  the  employment  of  children  in  theatres 
were  truly  sensible.  More  remarkable,  however, 
were  his  opinions  on  the  science  of  acting,  the  art 
of  management,  and  of  dealing  with  audiences  and 
other  kindred  topics,  which  show  much  thought  and 
knowledge.  He  has,  in  truth,  written  a  great  deal, 
and  his  various  "discourses,"  recently  collected  in  a 
pretty  little  volume,  do  credit  to  his  literary  style 
and  power  of  expression.  ^ 

'  An  Irving  "Bibliography"  would  fill  many  columns,  and 
would  include  a  vast  quantity  of  controversial  writing — attacks, 
defences  and  discussions.  Besides  his  official  discourses,  he  has 
written  many  agreeable  papers  in  the  leading  "  monthlies."  I 
have  already  spoken  of  the  "  skits  "  and  personalities  which  fol- 
lowed his  early  successes,  and  which  he  encountered  with  excellent 
temper  and  a  patient  shrug.  These  have  long  since  been  forgotten. 
At  attempts  at  "  taking  him  off,"  though  a  favourite  pastime,  he 
could  afford  to  smile ;  though  when  it  was  carried  beyond  legiti- 
mate  bounds,   as   in    the  instance   of  the   late  Mr.  Leslie,  he 


POPULARITY  231 

There  have  been  many  laments  over  the  fleeting, 
evanescent  character  of  an  actor's  efforts.  If  his 
success  be  triumphant,  it  is  only  a  dream  for  those 
who  have  not  seen.  Description  gives  but  the 
faintest  idea  of  his  gifts.  The  writer,  as  it  were, 
continues  to  write  after  his  death,  and  is  read,  as  he 
was  in  his  lifetime.  But  the  player  gone,  the  play 
is  over.  The  actor,  it  is  true,  if  he  be  a  personality, 
has  another  audience  outside  his  theatre.  As  I 
have  shown  in  these  pages,  he  can  attract  by  force 
of  character  the  interest  and  sympathies  of  the 
general  community.  Whatever  he  does,  or  wherever 
he  appears,  eyes  are  turned  to  him  as  they  would  be 
to  one  on  a  stage.  There  was  a  sort  of  indulgent 
partiality  in  the  case  of  Irving.  He  was  a  dramatic 
figure,  much  as  was  Charles  Dickens.  Eyes  are  idly 
bent  on  him  that  enters  next.  And  this  high  position 
was  never  disturbed  during  his  life ;  and  though 
all  popularity  is  precarious  enough,  he  had  the  art 
and  tact  to  adapt  his  position  to  the  shifty,  capricious 
changes  of  taste,  and  in  the  hackneyed  phrase  was 

interposed  with  quiet  firmness,  and  put  it  down  in  the  interests  of 
the  profession.  An  American  burlesque  actor,  named  Dixie, 
with  execrable  taste  gave  an  imitation  of  him  in  his  presence. 
More  curious  was  the  unconscious  imitation  which  was  gain- 
ing in  the  ranks  of  the  profession,  and  which  has  had  some 
droll  results.  Thus  one  Hudson — when  playing  the  Tetrarch  in 
'  Claudian '  in  the  States — was  so  strangely  like  him  in  manner 
and  speech,  that  it  was  assumed  by  the  American  audience 
that  he  was  maliciously  "taking  him  off"!  His  own  company 
caught  up  many  of  his  "  ways  "  and  fashions — notably  Haviland, 
and  even  Alexander.  At  the  opening  of  '  Vanderdecken,'  two  at 
least  of  the  performers  were  mistaken  for  him — from  their  walk — 
and  had  a  "  reception  "  accordingly. 


232  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

more  "  up  to  date "  than  any  person  of  his  time. 
The  fine  Hnes  in  '  Troilus  and  Cressida  ' — the  most 
magnificent  in  Shakespeare,  as  they  seem  to  me — 
should  ring  in  every  actor's  ear,  or  indeed  in  that  of 
every  one  that  enjoys  public  favour.  Alas  !  it  must 
be  his  lot  to  be  ever  at  the  oar.  There  is  no  relax- 
ing, no  repose ;  no  coy  retirement,  or  yielding  to 
importunate  rivalry.      For — 

"  To  have  done,  is  to  hang  quite  out  of  fashion, 
Like  a  rusty  mail  in  monumental  mockery.  .  .  . 
For  honour  travels  in  a  strait  so  narrow, 
Where  one  but  goes  abreast :    keep,  then,  the  path  ; 
For  emulation  hath  a  thousand  sons, 
That  one  by  one  pursue :  if  you  give  way, 
Or  turn  aside  from  the  direct  forth-right, 
Like  to  an  enter'd  tide,  they  all  rush  by. 
And  leave  you  hindmost ; — and  there  you  lie 
Like  a  gallant  horse  fallen  in  first  rank. 
For  pavement  to  the  abject  rear,  o'er-run 
And  trampled  on ;   then,  what  they  do  in  present. 
Though  less  than  yours  in  past,  must  o'ertop  yours." 


CHAPTER  XVI 

1893 

'  KING    ARTHUR  ' CORPORAL    BREWSTER HONOURS 

WHEN  the  theatre  opened  for  the  season, 
'  Faust '  was  revived  to  fill  up  the  interval, 
and  it  drew  excellent  and  satisfactory  "  houses " 
until  a  new  piece  was  got  ready.  This,  it  was  said, 
was  rehearsed  on  board  the  steamer  on  the  way 
home.     Our  actor  had  \oncr  before  him  the  idea  of 

O 

playing  the  "spotless  king,"  and  had  the  late 
Laureate  been  alive  he  might  have  been  tempted  to 
shape  his  great  poem  into  a  play.  As  it  was,  the 
versatile  Comyns  Carr  was  entrusted  with  the  task, 
and,  somewhat  to  the  surprise  of  the  public,  he  who 
had  been  art-critic,  manager  of  Grosvenor  and  New 
Galleries,  dramatist  and  designer  of  dresses,  &c., 
for  the  Lyceum,  now  came  forward  as  a  poet ;  and 
a  very  respectable  poet  he  proved  to  be,  with  har- 
monious, mellifluous  lines,  effective  from  a  stage 
point  of  view.  It  must  be  said,  however,  that  the 
play  is  altogether  a  literary  one,  and  rather  lacks 
dramatic  movement.      It  is  really  a  series  of  har- 

233 


234  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

monious  recitations  set  off  by  beautiful  shows,  pro- 
cessions, and  scenic  views.  The  piece  was  no  doubt 
"written  in  the  theatre  "under  inspiration  of  the 
manager,  and  supphed  exactly  what  he  wanted. 
The  scenery  was  designed  by  Sir  E.  Burne-Jones, 
who  supplied  some  exquisite  combinations  or  ar- 
rangements of  colour,  which  were  certainly  new  to 
stage-land.  The  music  was  Sir  Arthur  Sullivan's, 
and  later  there  was  to  be  the  unusual  and  unprece- 
dented incident  of  no  fewer  than  three  knights — a 
musician,  a  painter  and  an  actor — combining  their 
talents  in  a  single  play.  Beautiful  was  the  opening 
scene  with  the  blue  waters  and  the  swimming 
maidens  imported  from  '  Rheingold,'  with  the  finding 
of  the  "  Excalibur  "  contrived  most  skilfully.  There 
were  grand  hails  and  castles,  and  woodland  groves, 
all  exhibiting  much  originality  of  touch,  with  that 
unvarying  effective  grace  and  tact  which  made  the 
most  of  the  materials.  The  characters  were  rather 
faintly  outlined.  King  Arthur  and  his  Queen  are 
comparatively  colourless  ;  so  is  Elaine.  Mr.  Forbes 
Robertson,  who  played  Lancelot  with  picturesque 
power,  was  early  withdrawn,  being  bound  by  some 
other  engagement.  His  successor,  a  pleasing  light 
comedian,  lacked  the  weight  necessary  for  the  cha- 
racter. Miss  Terry  was,  as  usual,  touching  and 
pathetic.  So  refined,  so  perfect  was  the  general 
treatment  that  it  attracted  and  drew  larger  and  yet 
larger  houses. 

That  the  element  of  scenery  and  decoration  is 
monstrously  overdone  to  the  destruction  of  ^.cting 
there  can  be  no  question.       The    elaborate  repro- 


'KING  ARTHUR'  235 

duction,  or  reconstruction,  of  cities  and  antique 
dresses  on  the  stage  is  quite  outside  dramatic  art. 
In  proof  of  this,  what  leaves  so  painful  and  de- 
grading an  impression  as  the  passage  through  the 
streets  of  a  cartload  of  scenes  and  properties,  all 
rickety  and  daubed  over  with  faded  colours  and 
tinsel  ?  Here  we  may  just  glance  at  Mr.  Gordon 
Craig's  new  system,  which — though  crude  and 
unscientific  as  yet — is  still  a  step  in  the  right 
direction.  His  principle  would  seem  a  sort  of 
indistinct  generality  or  misty  treatment  carried  out 
by  the  agency  of  dark  draperies.  I  recall  a  church 
interior  represented  in  this  fashion,  and  which,  with- 
out supplying  any  details,  suggested  a  vast  expanse. 
The  objection,  however,  is  a  certain  sameness 
and  sense  of  repetition.  The  whole  system,  how- 
ever, is  valuable  as  a  protest  against  what  may  be 
called,  simulated  scenery. 

A  striking  proof  of  the  care  devoted  by  Irving  to 
the  scenery  of  his  pieces  is  found  in  the  assistance 
which  he  invoked  of  the  leading  artists  of  his  day. 
This  is  really  unique  in  the  annals  of  the  stage. 
Even  when  Garrick  secured  the  services  of  De 
Loutherberg,  that  artist  was  then,  like  Stanfield, 
only  a  professional  scene-painter,  though  later  both 
became  Royal  Academicians.  The  roll  in  Irving's 
case  was  an  extraordinary  one.  It  included  Sir 
Alma  Tadema,  R.A.,  Sir  E.  Burne-Jones,  R.A., 
Ford  Madox  Brown,  Gustave  Dore,  J.  Seymour 
Lucas,  and  Sir  J.  Tenniel.  Tadema  supplied  four 
beautiful  scenes  for  'Coriolanus,'  the  small  sketches 
of  which  produced  at  the  sale  close  on  ;^8oo.      Sir 


236  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

E.  Burne-Jones  contributed  no  less  than  twenty-two 
designs  and  two  pastels  for  '  King  Arthur,'  which 
realised  only  ninety-two  guineas.  For  these  con- 
tributions we  may  be  sure  Irving  paid  in  his 
handsome  imperial  way  ;  but  in  their  application  to 
his  scenic  purposes  he  was  equally  imperious  if  not 
impervious.  For  he  would  seem  to  have  modified 
and  adapted  them  according  to  the  necessities  of 
the  case,  not  wholly  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  artists. 
During  a  long  course  of  years  Alma  Tadema's 
designs  were  laid  aside  altogether,  but  Burne-Jones's 
had  been  freely  altered.  "  Some  things  they  have 
done  well  and  some  they  have  spoiled  ;  and  they 
have  behaved  very  badly  about  Merlin,  and  drew 
him  not  as  I  have  designed  him,  so  I  have  made  a 
row,  and  now  they  are  going  to  alter  him.  They 
hurried  the  thing  so  that  I  saw  nothing  till  it  was 
on  the  stage."  He  was  clearly  dissatisfied.  He 
also  designed  the  armour. 

It  may  be  doubted,  however,  whether  this  system 
is  really  profitable,  or  is  not  merely  a  waste  of 
precious  material,  for  the  two  domains  are  almost 
opposed.  The  artist  of  the  first  rank  cannot  feel  at 
home  on  the  stage — its  methods  are  so  different  from 
his.  On  the  other  hand,  Irving  may  have  pushed 
his  system  of  shaping  and  docking  too  far,  as  he  did 
in  the  instance  of  composers,  and  also  in  that  of 
dramatists. 

As  the  season  went  on,  the  manager,  following 
his  favourite  policy,  prepared  a  series  of  revivals  on 
a  gigantic  scale.  These  were  virtually  convenient 
rehearsals  for  the  coming  American  tour.     But  the 


CORPORAL  BREWSTER  237 

constant  changes  of  scenes,  dresses,  &c.,  involved  an 
enormous  strain.  The  round  of  pieces  included, 
within  the  space  of  a  few  weeks,  no  fewer  than 
eleven  plays  :  '  Faust,'  '  King  Arthur,'  '  Louis  XI.,' 
'  Merchant  of  Venice,'  '  Becket,'  '  Much  Ado  About 
Nothing,'  'The  Lyons  Mail,'  '  Charles  L,'  'Nancy 
Oldfield,'  '  Corsican  Brothers,'  'Macbeth.'  A  new 
short  piece,  '  Journeys  End  in  Lovers  Meeting,' 
by  George  Moore  and  John  Oliver  Hobbes,  which 
was  to  introduce  Miss  Terry,  was  also  announced. 
The  burden  of  "staging  "  all  these  great  works,  in  a 
short  time,  must  have  been  enormous.  But  it  was 
only  in  this  fashion  that  the  revivals  could  be  done 
justice  to. 

It  is  a  wonderful  proof  of  our  actor's  ability  that, 
after  so  many  years  of  experiment  in  characters  of 
all  kinds,  he  should  in  almost  his  latest  attempt  have 
made  one  of  his  most  signal  successes.  I  doubt  if 
anything  he  had  hitherto  tried  had  more  profoundly 
impressed  his  audience  than  the  little  cabinet  sketch 
of  Corporal  Brewster  in  Conan  Doyle's  '  Story 
of  Waterloo.'  This  he  had  first  presented  to  a 
provincial  audience  at  Bristol,  with  such  extraordi- 
nary effect  that  the  general  audience  of  the  kingdom 
felt  instinctively  that  a  great  triumph  had  been 
achieved.  Every  one  at  a  distance  at  once  knew 
and  was  interested  in  the  old  corporal.  A  second 
trial  was  made  in  London,  for  a  charity  ;  and  at  last, 
on  May  4,  1893,  it  was  formally  brought  forward 
in  the  regular  programme.  There  was  what  is 
called  "a  triple  bill,"  consisting  of  Mr.  Pinero's 
early  drama,   'Bygones,'  this  'Story  of  Waterloo,' 


238  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

and    some    scenes    from    'Don    Quixote,'    Wills's 
work.  ^ 

This  sketch  of  the  old  soldier  was  a  noble  piece  of 
acting,  highly  finished,  yet  natural  and  unobtrusive, 
full  of  pathos  and  even  tragedy.  The  actor  excelled 
himself  in  numerous  forcible  touches,  now  humorous, 
now  pathetic.  He  gave  the  effect  of  its  being  a 
large  history  in  little ;  we  had  the  whole  life  of  the 
character  laid  out  before  us.  It  was  original,  too,  and 
the  oddities  were  all  restrained  with  a  fine  reserve. 
The  figure  will  always  be  present  to  the  memory — 
a  satisfactory  proof  of  excellence.  There  was  one 
mistake,  however,  in  giving  the  female  character  to 
Miss  Hughes,  a  bright  and  lively  soubrette,  who 
could  not,  therefore,  supply  the  necessary  sympa- 
thetic interest,  though  she  did  her  best.  Taking  it 
all  in  all.  Corporal  Brewster  was,  in  its  way,  one  of 
the  most  masterly  things  the  actor  had  done,  and  it 
can  be  praised — ay,  extolled — without  the  smallest 
reservation. 

It  was  followed  by  some  scenes  from  '  Don 
Quixote,'  and  here,  again,  we  must  admire  that 
admirable  power  of  conceiving  a  character  in  which 
Irving  excelled,  and  in  which  all  true  actors  should 
excel.  It  was  admitted  that  the  piece  was  but  a 
sketchy  thing.  Still  here  was  supplied  the  living 
image  of  the  hapless  and  ever-interesting  "  Don," 
who  lived,  moved,  and  had  his  being  before  us,  in  the 
most  perfect  way.     There  was  a  general  dreaminess 

'  This  "  triple  bill "  is  an  unmeaning  term,  for  a  triple  bill 
means,  if  anything,  three  bills  in  one,  and  not,  as  is  supposed,  a 
single  bill  in  three  parts. 


DON   QUIXOTE  239 

over  him  ;  his  soul  was  so  filled  with  high  chivalrous 
visions  that  he  was  indifferent  to  the  coarsely  prosaic 
incidents  going  on  about  him.  He  filled  the  stage  ; 
the  rest  were  mere  puppets.  The  character,  in 
spite  of  the  shortcomings  of  the  piece,  might  have 
been  made  one  of  his  best.  The  Don,  in  Irving's 
hands,  was  a  very  fine  specimen  of  the  Spanish 
noble.  He  was  the  exact  picture  of  the  hero — 
dignified  and  chivalrous — stately  in  bearing,  though 
grotesque  ;  always  in  grim  earnest — even  intense ; 
with  somewhat  of  a  reminiscence  of  his  Malvolio. 
Yet  here,  again,  was  success  missed.  The  dull 
public  seemed  to  think  that  it  was  a  sort  of  inauvaise 
plaisanterie,  or  bit  of  pantomime.  It  was  really 
above  them.  So  it  ran  but  for  a  short  time.  This 
was  disheartening  enough.  And  here  was  thus 
one  more  sign  of  decay  in  the  failure  of  that  once 
marvellous  hold  on  public  admiration.  He  seemed 
also  to  be  losing  the  power  of  judicious  selection. 
And  yet  for  years  he  had  been  listening  to  the 
flattering  compliments  showered  on  him — that  he 
was  "the  ideal  Don  Quixote."  Critics,  fair  dames, 
and  all  joined  in  the  cry  :  "  You  would  be  the  ideal 
Don  Quixote  !  "  And  so  he  was.  But  the  crowd 
could  not  see  it. 

And  here  it  may  be  said  that  this  long  connection 
of  Wills,  author  of  this  piece,  with  the  Lyceum 
tended  somewhat  to  the  sacrifice  of  brisk  dramatic 
action,  always  enfeebled  by  an  excess  of  poetical  reci- 
tation. There  were  still  left  many  fine  subjects  and 
fine  dramas  which  would  kindle  all  the  actor's  powers 
afresh  and  stir  his  audiences.     What  a  fine  piece. 


240  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

for  instance,  might  be  made  of  Victor  Hugo's  "  Notre 
Dame " !  We  could  call  up  our  actor  as  the 
mysterious  and  romantic  monk — one  more  addition 
to  his  ecclesiastical  gallery.  What  opportunities  for 
scenery  and  music  !  One  of  the  most  picturesque  of 
stories  is  that  of  Theodore  of  Corsica,  he  who  dreamed 
of  being  a  king  and  actually  became  one,  and  who 
died  in  the  King's  Bench  Prison  in  the  most  piteous 
state  of  misery.  We  should  have  liked  to  have 
seen  him,  too,  as  Rodin,  in  Sue's  'Wandering  Jew,' 
and,  better  still,  in  '  Venice  Preserved,'  or  in  '  Mile. 
de  Belleisle.' 

After  his  twenty  years'  fruitful  work  at  the 
Lyceum — twenty  years  and  more  of  picturesque 
labour  during  which  a  new  interest  was  created  in 
the  stage — an  official  recognition  was  to  be  given  of 
our  actor's  high  position.  The  year  1895  will  hence- 
forth be  notable  as  the  year  of  the  first  tardy  honour 
ever  bestowed  on  an  English  actor  by  the  Crown. 
We  have  had  titled  players  in  abundance  on  the 
stage,  but  they  have  not  owed  their  honours  to  the 
stage.  It  has  been  said  that  Sir  Richard  Steele 
and  Sir  Augustus  Harris  were  the  only  two  titled 
managers.  When,  in  May,  the  usual  list  of  what  are 
called  "birthday  honours"  came  out,  the  public 
was  delighted  to  find  their  favourite  knighted,  in 
company  with  a  poet,  a  novelist,  and  a  successful 
traveller.  Few  Government  acts  have  given  such 
general  satisfaction.  There  was  a  general  chorus 
of  appreciation.  Already  a  lecturer  before  the 
Universities  and  a  doctor  of  Letters,  the  leading 
player   of  his   time  was  now  officially  recognised. 


HONOURS  241 

On  the  lamented  death  of  the  actor,  Mr.  G. 
Bernard  Shaw  made  a  rather  reckless  statement, 
to  the  effect  that  the  actor  had  actually  applied  for  his 
knighthood  on  the  ground  that  it  was  due  to  his  pro- 
fession, which  ought  to  be  honoured  in  that  way  just 
as  much  as  were  the  arts  and  sciences.  This  singular 
contention  was  put  forward  in  an  Austrian  paper,  ^ 
and  was  promptly  challenged  by  Mr.  Stephen 
Coleridge  in  a  letter,  which  is  a  graceful  and 
effective  tribute   to  the  memory  of  the   actor  : — 

"In  1883  I  asked  my  father  to  broach  the  matter 
of  making  Irving  a  knight  to  Mr.  Gladstone,  who 
was  then  Prime  Minister.  He  did  so,  and  Mr. 
Gladstone  intimated  that,  before  considering  the 
matter,  and  before  making  any  recommendation  to 
the  Queen,  it  was  essential  that  he  should  know 
whether  Irving  would  accept  the  honour.  On  the 
28th  of  June,  1883,  I  went  and  saw  Irving  and 
asked  him  whether  in  the  event  of  a  knighthood 
being  offered  him  he  would  accept  it,  and  I  now 
quote  from  my  diary  written  at  the  time  : 

"  '  He  would  not  accept  it ;  he  said  that  an 
actor  differed  from  others,  artists,  musicians, 
and  the  like,  in  that  he  had  to  appear  in 
person  every  night  appealing  directly  to  the 
public  for  their  favour.  That  being  so,  it  was 
of  paramount  importance  that  an  actor  should 
do  nothing  that  could  possibly  be  misconstrued. 
That  there  was  a  fellowship  among  actors  of  a 
company  that  would  be  impaired  by  any  eleva- 
tion   of  one    member  over  another ;    that   his 

'  Neue  Freie  Fresse,  October  20,  1905. 
17 


242  SIR  HENRY   IRVING 

strength  as  a  manager  and  power  as  an  actor 

lay  far  more  in  the  suffrages  of  the  plain  folk 

of  the  pit  than  in  the  patronage,  however  lofty, 

of  great   people ;    that    he    knew  instinctively 

that  large  numbers  of  those  same   plain  folk 

would  be  offended  at  their  simple  Henry  Irving 

accepting  decorations  of  a  titular  kind.      He 

disclaimed  any  false    pride    in    the  matter,  he 

did  not  affect  to  despise  such  an  honour,  and 

was    very  grateful    to    my  father  for  his  kind 

desires.' 

"  This  is  not  the  language  of  a  man  who  would 

vulgarly  ask  for  honours  for  himself.     I  believe  that 

in    1895   Lord   Rosebery,  as  Prime   Minister,  sent 

Irving's  name  to  the  Queen  with  a  recommendation 

for  a  knighthood,  and  Irving  received  an  intimation 

that  this  had  been  done  and  an  instruction  to  repair 

to  Windsor  to  receive  the  honour." 

Mr.  Shaw  defended  his  assertion  by  pointing  to 
certain  appeals  of  Irving's,  claiming  a  recognition  for 
the  stage  exactly  equivalent  to  that  of  the  other 
artistic  professions.  He  insisted  that  they  should 
receive  the  same  honours  ;  but  he  did  not  claim  them 
for  himself.  Mr.  Labouchere  had  the  same  design 
in  view,  and  he  also  went  to  Mr.  Gladstone  to  suggest 
that  Irving  should  be  knighted.  A  little  staggered 
at  the  proposal,  the  Premier  answered  that  he  must 
first  consult  Lord  Granville,  and  having  done  so,  he 
offered  the  honour  to  the  actor,  who,  however, 
declined  it — thinking,  so  Mr.  Labouchere  says, 
that  it  would  make  him  look  absurd.  Labouchere 
always  treated  with  ridicule  his  friend's  crude  fancy 


HONOURS  243 

for  the  Municipal  Theatre  as  an  utterly  impracti- 
cable thing  in  this  country. 

There  was  always  an  adroit  modesty  in  Irving's 
disclaimer  of  his  new  rank.  In  vain  you  looked 
in  his  bills  for  the  showy  "Sir  Henry";  nothing 
but  plain  "Henry  Irving"  met  the  eye.  And 
there  was  the  suggestion  from  the  reader,  "  Why 
does  he  not  give  himself  his  proper  designation  ?  " 
Some  might  think  it  a  sort  of  ostentation,  but  it  was 
far  from  that ;  he  really  wished  not  to  raise  himself 
above  his  comrades.  However,  propriety  is  its  own 
reward,  like  honesty,  and  this  simple  stroke  brought 
him  more  distinction  than  if  he  had  flourished  away 
in  all  his  full-blown  honour.  Sir  Charles  Wyndham 
now  follows  the  same  precedent. 

To  no  class  of  the  community  was  the  honour 
more  acceptable  than  to  his  own  profession.  A 
meetinor  of  actor-manas:ers  and  others  was  held  to 
take  some  step  "  in  recognition,"  it  was  said,  of  the 
distinction.  Mr.  Bancroft  presided,  and  a  pro- 
visional committee  was  formed,  consisting  of  Mr. 
Toole,  Mr.  Pinero,  Mr.  Beerbohm  Tree,  Sir  A. 
Harris,  Mr.  Hare,  Mr.  Wyndham,  Mr.  G.  Alexander, 
Mr.  Terry,  Mr.  Forbes  Robertson,  Mr.  Terriss, 
Mr.  Howe,  Mr.  Brough,  Mr.  G.  Conquest,  and 
some  others.  Mr.  Bashford  acted  as  secretary. 
Another  meeting-  with  the  same  end  in  view  was 
called  of  "proprietors,  authors  and  managers."  All 
this  was  very  gratifying.  Not  less  striking  was  the 
feeling  with  which  the  news  was  received  abroad, 
and  his  confreres  of  the  French  Comedy — the 
''House   of  Moliere "  as   it  proudly  and   so  justly 


244  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

boasts  itself — lost  not  a  moment  in  calling  a  meet- 
ing and  sending  him  a  formal  "act"  of  congratu- 
lation.    This  important  document  ran  : — 

"Paris,  May  28,  1895. 
"  Dear  Sir  Henry  Irving, — The  committee  of 
the  Comedie  Fran^aise  and  the  socUtaires  of  the 
House  of  Moliere  desire  to  send  you  their  cordial 
congratulations,  and  to  signify  the  joy  they  feel  at 
the  high  distinction  of  which  you  have  lately  been 
made  the  recipient.  We  are  all  delighted  to  see  a 
great  country  pay  homage  to  a  great  artist,  and  we 
applaud  with  all  our  hearts  the  fitting  and  signal 
recompense  paid  to  an  actor  who  has  done  such 
powerful  service  and  profound  honour  to  our  calling 
and  our  art.  Accept,  then,  dear  Sir  Henry  Irving, 
the  expression  of  the  deep  sympathy  as  artists  and 
the  sincere  devotion  which  we  feel  towards  you. — 
(Signed)  Jules  Claretie,  administrator-general  and 
president  of  committee ;  Mounet  Sully,  G.  Worms, 
Silvain,  Georges  Baillet,  Coquelin  cadet,  Proudhon, 
&c.,  of  the  committee ;  S.  Reichemberg,  Bartet, 
B.  Baretta  Worms,  Paul  Mounet,  Mary  Kalb, 
Blanche  Pierson,  A.   Dudlay,  &c.,  soci^taires." 

Looking  back  over  this  long  period  of  nigh  thirty 
years,  we  are  astonished  to  find  this  laborious  and 
conscientious  performer  hardly  ever  absent  from  his 
stage.  Night  after  night,  year  after  year,  he  was  still 
found  at  his  post,  defiant  of  fatigue  or  ill-health.  Only 
on  one  occasion,  I  think,  owing  to  some  affection  of 
his  throat,  had  a  substitute  to  take  his  place.     The 


HONOURS  245 

pressure  and  constant  struggle  of  our  time,  it  may- 
be, takes  no  account  of  weakness  or  failure  ;  no 
one  dares  relax,  and  as  Mrs.  Siddons  declared  the 
player's  nerves  must  be  made  of  cart-ropes,  so  must 
he  have  a  constitution  of  iron  or  steel. 

Sir  Henry  thus  expressed  himself  to  an  inter- 
viewer :  "My  'watchword,'  as  you  term  it,  must 
needs  be  an  old  one — an  old  ideal.  It  is  the  one 
word,  Health  !  It  is  of  all  things  essential  that  we 
keep  our  drama  sane,  and  sound,  and  sweet,  and 
wholesome.  For  my  part,  I  can  say  that  I  have 
always  endeavoured  never  to  produce  or  take  part 
in  any  play  that  a  young  fellow  might  not  take  his 
sweetheart  or  sister  to  see."  "You  do  not  then 
approve  of  Ibsen.-*"  "No.  Frankly  speaking,  I  most 
distinctly  do  not.  What  life  do  such  plays  render.-* 
What  lesson  of  good  do  they  convey  .-*  The 
playgoing  public  of  England  have  not  altogether 
tired  of  Shakespeare,  or  of  the  wondrous  lessons 
that  he  teaches.  But  do  you  know  I  am  a  little 
afraid  that  my  son  " — and  here  Sir  Henry  smiled 
across  at  Mr.  Laurence  Irving — "  has  become  at 
least  slightly  infected  by  the  '  blight  from  the 
North.'" 

"  I  can  have  no  hesitation  in  saying,"  he  added, 
"  that  I  look  hopefully  for  the  time  when  the  English 
municipalities  shall  do  something  for  the  stage  as 
they  do  in  France  and  Germany.  All  such  innova- 
tions are  warmly  opposed  in  a  country  like  ours — 
take,  for  example,  the  simple  opening  of  museums 
and  picture-galleries,  which  in  certain  quarters  was 
bitterly  resented.     This  insensate  opposition  must 


246  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

be  held  to  account,  at  least  in  part,  for  the 
lamentable  lack  of  healthy  and  intellectual  enjoyment 
which  one  notices  as  one  passes  through  many 
country  places.  It  is  not  as  if  we  were  even 
consistent  in  Great  Britain — for  do  we  not  find  the 
municipal  authorities  helping  to  give  the  people 
music  and  outdoor  recreations  while  neglecting  to 
assist  the  theatres  ?  " 


CHAPTER   XVII 


SOCIAL    GIFTS 


IRVING  always  showed  himself  eager  to  plead 
for  his  profession,  to  urge  its  claim  as  a  whole- 
some and  instructive  moral  influence  that  will 
implant  in  the  community  elevating  instincts  of 
even  a  religious  kind.  All  our  oreat  actors  have 
been  forward  in  this  way,  notably  Garrick,  Kemble, 
and  Macready.  The  former's  reply  to  the  bishop 
as  to  the  success  and  failure  of  their  different  styles 
of  preaching  is  well  known.  Our  actor  was  very 
earnest,  and  fondly  believed  that  the  day  is  approach- 
ing when  the  stage,  and  its  ways  and  works,  will  be 
recognised  by  the  Church,  and  by  good  people 
generally,  as  healthy,  useful  agents  in  the  work  of 
reforming;  men  and  women.  He  was  fond  of 
repeating  the  bishop's  remark  to  him,  when  he 
asked  why,  with  such  a  taste  for  the  theatre,  he  did 
not  frequent  it — "  My  dear  Irving,  I  am  afraid  of 
the  Rock  and  the  Record.'' 

In  his  paper,  addressed  to  the  Church  of  England 
Temperance  Society,  and  read  on  March  3,  1876, 
Irving  very  valiantly  pressed  for  the  formal  recog- 


247 


248  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

nition  of  his  profession  by  the  Church.  "  Make  the 
theatre  respected  by  openly  recognising  its  services. 
Let  members  of  rehgious  congregations  know  that 
there  is  no  harm,  but  rather  good,  in  entering  into 
ordinary  amusements,  so  far  as  they  are  decorous. 
Use  the  pulpit,  the  press,  and  the  platform  to 
denounce  not  the  stage,  but  certain  evils  that  find 
allowance  on  it.  Change  your  attitude  towards  the 
stage,  and,  believe  me,  the  stage  will  co-operate 
with  you,"  &c. 

It  must  be  said,  however,  as  regards  this  friendly 
invitation,  that  this  idea  of  the  Churches  cordially 
recommending  the  stage  and  of  the  clergy  being 
seen  in  the  stalls,  and  of  bishops  who  would  go  to 
the  theatre  but  for  fear  of  the  jRock  and  the  Record, 
seems  but  a  pleasant  delusion.  Some  few  stray 
clerical  visitants  there  are,  no  doubt ;  but  in  all 
ages  and  climes  the  Church  has  found  itself 
opposed  to  the  stage,  on  the  ground  that  in  the 
majority  of  theatres  is  found  what  is  destroying  and 
corrupting.  As  I  have  said,  the  pieces  in  which 
anything  instructive,  or  even  elevating,  is  set  forth 
are  but  few. 

In  his  numerous  addresses  at  institutes,  and 
before  the  Universities,  he  urged  the  same  plea. 
With  this  skilful  and  loyal  advocacy,  we  have  an 
instinct  that  the  stage  can  have  but  small  effect  on 
the  masses,  and  does  little  beyond  making  them 
acquainted  with  certain  refining  ideas  and  situations. 
As  for  its  fostering  moral  or  religious  impressions, 
by  exhibiting  "  virtue  triumphant  and  vice  defeated," 
that  seems  to  be  rather  fanciful.     It  is  probable  that 


SOCIAL  GIFTS  249 

the  playwrights,  managers,  actors,  and  audiences 
use  the  theatres  for  profit  and  for  amusement,  not 
for  self-improvement  in  religion  or  morals.  Even 
the  great  classical  works,  such  as  those  of  Shakes- 
peare, are  set  forward  with  so  much  magnificence, 
show,  and  spectacle,  that  the  teachings  are  over- 
powered in  the  spectacle  and  general  entertainment. 
But  even  granting  the  contention  that  it  may 
become  a  pure  leaven  in  the  profession,  or 
sweetening  salt  to  purify  the  rest,  who  can  maintain 
that  the  stage  as  a  whole,  with  its  burlesques, 
"grotesques,"  frivolities,  fooleries,  and  license  of 
speech  and  manners,  can  be  considered  an  edifying 
school  for  morality  and  religion  ?  The  thing  is 
Utopian  —  hopeless  in  these  days  of  '  Spring 
Chickens'  and  'Mr.  Popples.'  What  a  deep 
impression,  on  the  other  hand,  leaves  such  a  piece  as 
*  The  School  for  Scandal ' ! — what  a  genuine  disgust 
for  deceit  and  insincerity  !  How  it  shows  the 
danger  of  "playing  with  fire"!  What  a  pleasant 
sympathy  is  aroused  with  the  natural,  manly  virtues  ! 
Here  is  a  certain  sort  of  teaching  if  you  will,  and 
here,  too,  is  there  an  elemental  morality.  But  in 
these  days  we  unhappily  not  only  lack  the  talent 
to  supply  such  comedies,  but  the  public  taste  is 
debauched  and  gorged  with  grosser  dishes. 

As  I  have  said,  Irving  collected  his  addresses 
in  a  little  volume,  "  The  Drama,"  1893.  Here, 
in  an  exceedingly  persuasive  and  graceful  style, 
he  expounded  the  principles  of  his  art.  On 
every  point  he  has  something  to  say,  and  all  is 
marked  by  judiciousness  and  a  temperate  reserve. 


250  SIR  HENKY  IRVING 

How  true,  for  instance,  is  this :  "  Nor  do  I  think 
that  serviHty  to  archaeology  on  the  stage  is  an 
unmixed  good.  Correctness  of  costume  is  ad- 
mirable and  necessary  up  to  a  certain  point,  but 
when  it  ceases  to  be  '  as  wholesome  as  sweet ' 
it  should,  I  think,  be  sacrificed.  The  nicest  discre- 
tion is  needed  in  the  use  of  the  materials  which 
are  nowadays  at  the  disposal  of  the  manager. 
Music,  painting,  architecture,  costume,  have  all  to 
be  employed,  with  a  strict  regard  to  the  production 
of  an  artistic  whole  in  which  no  element  shall  be 
obtrusive."  When  'Much  Ado  About  Nothing' 
was  produced,  there  was  a  scene  representing  a 
cedar  walk,  and  a  critic  discovered  that  there  were 
no  cedars  in  England  until  fifty  years  later,  on 
which  he  comments — "  Absolute  realism  on  the 
stage  is  not  always  desirable,  any  more  than  the 
photographic  reproduction  of  Nature  can  claim  to 
rank  with  the  highest  art." 

A  little  bit  of  pleasant  comedy  was  found 
in  a  speech  of  his  at  a  dinner  of  the  Cab- 
drivers'  Benevolent  Association.  He  had  always 
a  friendly  feeling  for  this  hardworked  body  of 
men,  as  he  told  his  audience  autobiographically : 
"  I  have  spent  a  great  part  of  my  life  in  cabs. 
There  was  a  time,  indeed,  when  a  hansom,  by 
a  slight  stretch  of  the  picturesque,  might  have  been 
described  as  my  address.  That  was  in  the  days  of 
youth  and  high  spirits.  But  there  comes  a  moment 
in  the  experience  of  all  of  us  when  the  taste  for 
adventure  is  satiated,  when  we  are  no  longer  eager 
to  sit  under  the  charioteer  of  the  sun,  and  snatch  a 


SOCIAL  GIFTS  251 

fearful  joy  from  sharp  corners  and  a  sudden  con- 
gestion of  the  traffic.  So  when  the  decisive 
moment  came  for  me  I  dropped  the  hansom  and 
took  up  with  the  growler.  I  remember  that  my 
first  appearance  in  that  staid  and  unambitious 
vehicle  excited  a  certain  amount  of  feeling  amongst 
my  old  friends  the  hansom  cabmen.  There  were 
letters  of  remonstrance.  One  correspondent,  as 
genial  a  humorist  as  Gentleman  Joe,  hinted  that  to 
be  seen  in  a  growler  was  equivalent  to  being  dead, 
and  I  think  he  offered  to  paint  my  epitaph  on  the 
back.  I  must  say  that  I  am  very  comfortable  in  a 
growler,  except  when  the  bottom  drops  out  almost 
as  suddenly  as  if  it  were  a  gold  mine.  That 
accident  once  happened  to  a  friend  of  mine  whose 
professional  business  compelled  him  to  make  a 
quick  change  of  dress  in  the  cab,  and  as  it  was 
a  light  summer  evening  the  passers-by  were 
astonished  to  see  a  pair  of  white  legs  running 
under  the  vehicle,  and  not  apparently  connected 
with  the  horse." 

Again  a  pleasant  sketch:  "Taking  them  as  a 
body,  the  cabmen  are  as  industrious  and  deserving 
a  class  as  you  can  find  in  the  community.  There 
still  lingers  amongst  them,  perhaps,  some  of  the 
old  spirit  which  prompted  the  cabmen  to  expostulate 
rather  forcibly  with  Mr.  Pickwick.  And  considering 
the  vast  area  in  which  these  public  servants  have  to 
work,  and  the  elasticity  of  the  four-mile  radius 
in  the  minds  of  some  citizens,  the  friction  is 
surprisingly  small.  Not  a  few  of  us  have  known 
cabmen  whom  we   held   in  special  regard.     There 


252  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

was  one  affable  driver  that  I  invited  to  the  Lyceum, 
giving  him  the  money  for  admission.  The  next 
time  I  saw  him  I  said,  '  Well,  and  how  did  you  like 
the  play  ?  '  He  hesitated  for  a  moment,  choosing, 
as  I  thought,  the  most  grateful  words  to  express  his 
pleasure  and  admiration,  and  then  he  said,  '  Well, 
sir,  I  didn't  go.'  'You  didn't  go!  Why  not?' 
'  Well,  sir,  you  see,  there's  the  missus,  and  she 
preferred  the  Waxworks.' 

"A  friend  of  mine,  a  great  ornament  of  the 
medical  profession,  used  to  tell  a  story  of  the 
cabman  who  drove  him  regularly  on  his  rounds, 
for  some  years,  and  always  spoke  of  him  with 
affectionate  familiarity  by  his  Christian  name.  The 
time  came  for  the  rising  surgeon  to  set  up  a 
brougham,  and  with  much  reluctance  he  broke  this 
news  to  his  good  friend  the  cabby,  who  responded 
with  cheerful  alacrity,  '  Oh,  you're  going  to  get  rid 
of  me,  are  you.-*  Not  a  bit  of  it — I'll  drive  that 
brougham.'  And  drive  it  he  did,  till  he  became  too 
old  and  infirm  for  the  duty.  '  Ah,  well,  I  must  give 
it  up,'  he  said  one  day;  'I  ain't  fit  for  it  any  longer.' 
'  Dear  me,'  said  the  doctor,  in  great  concern,  '  I  am 
very  sorry,  very  sorry  indeed.  And  what  are  you 
going  to  do  ? '  '  What  am  I  going  to  do  ?  What 
are y 021  going  to  do  for  me?  Don't  you  fear — I'll 
never  leave  you ! '  And  he  spent  the  rest  of  his 
days  on  a  pension.  That  story  has  always  seemed 
to  me  to  put  the  spirit  of  charity  and  goodwill  in  a 
thoroughly  practical  light.  You  can  scarcely  get 
through  life  in  this  town  without  a  sense  of  your 
dependence  on   cabby's   skill    and   endurance,   and 


,<<^' 


"  Don  Quixote." 
Dniwn  by  Phil  May. 


To  face  p.  253 


SOCIAL   GIFTS  253 

with  as  ofrateful  an  oblicration  to  him  as  that  of  the 
voyager  to  the  pilot  amidst  the  reefs  in  a  storm. 
In  this  labyrinth  of  London,  it  is  rare  for  cabby  not 
to  know  his  way.  I  have  never  ceased  to  wonder 
at  the  cabman's  dexterity  of  eye  and  hand — 
unrivalled,  I  venture  to  say,  in  any  other  capital  in 
Europe.  And  when  you  consider  how  small  is  the 
proportion  of  accidents  in  this  vast  business  of 
locomotion,  you  may  cheerfully  grant  that  cabby 
has  some  claim  upon  your  respect  and  generosity." 

I  think  the  whole  "  key "  of  this  is  admirably 
appropriate,  and  the  touch  of  the  lightest.^ 

Instances  of  his  boundless  generosity  have  been 
often  quoted.  These  were  of  an  impulsive,  lavish 
kind  springing  from  the  moment.  He  would 
eneaee  an  old  actor  who  was  of  little  use  for  his 
purposes  simply  to  furnish  a  retreat  and  support — 
such  as,  for  instance,  of  "Old  Howe,"  who  once 
almost  complained  to  me  of  his  patron's  generosity 
and  "princely"  salary,  for  he  said  :  "  I  had  sooner 
he  gave  me  something  to  do,"  the  veteran  being 
always  allotted  some  rather  minor  character.  Irving 
would  meet  an  old  actor  in  the  street  and  send  him 

*  In  this  connection  there  is  a  characteristic  story  told  of  our 
actor.  He  was  driving  in  a  hansom  one  night  to  the  Lyceum 
when  the  'Merchant  of  Venice'  was  running.  In  a  fit  of  absence 
of  mind  he  tendered  a  shiUing  for  his  fare,  whereas  it  should  have 
been  eighteenpence  or  two  shillings.  Whereupon  the  cabby, 
who  had  recognised  his  man,  burst  out :  "  If  yer  plays  the  Jew 
inside  that  theayter  as  well  as  yer  does  outside,  darned  if  I  won't 
spend  this  bob  on  coming  to  see  yer."  It  is  said  he  was  so 
delighted  with  the  retort  that  he  promptly  gave  the  man  half  a 
sovereign. 


254  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

on  his  way  rejoicing  with  cash  and  stalls ;  or, 
operating  more  delicately,  if  he  were  an  old  com- 
rade, he  would  find  a  small  part  for  him.  Once 
after  such  an  engagement,  the  man  was  taken  ill  in 
the  Isle  of  Wight.  Irving  actually  journeyed  down 
to  see  him,  comforted  him,  kept  his  place  open,  and 
left  ;!^ioo.  But  by  this  system  he  overburdened  his 
company  considerably. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


SYMPTOMS      OF     DECAY 


CYMBELINE,' produced  in  September,  1896, 
was  an  attempt  to  open  up  the  mine  of  less 
known  Shakespearian  drama  ;  a  hopeless  task,  as 
Irving  found  it  on  a  former  occasion.  The  public 
will  condescend  to  interest  itself  only  in  such 
pieces  as  it  knows  or  has  heard  of.  As  in  the 
case  of  the  lovely  '  Twelfth  Night '  revival  it 
turned  its  stony  ears  to  the  melodic  poetry  and 
closed  its  eyes  to  the  exquisitely  devised  scenes. 
The  "one  and  only"  Miss  Terry  showed  all  her 
tender  graces  in  Imogen,  and  her  comrade  con- 
tented himself  with  lachimo  instead  of  Posthumus. 
This  was  a  surprise.  As  one  of  his  warmest 
admirers  said  naively,  "  The  result  was  Posthumus 
is  no  longer  a  very  striking  personage."  This  dis- 
torting of  a  character  Irving  was  rather  partial  to. 

Rejane's  unique  performance  of  '  Madame  Sans 
Gene '  had  made  a  striking  success  in  London, 
where  every  one  talked  of  the  buoyancy,  and 
sentiment  combined,  of  the  actress.  Equal  praise 
could  be  accorded  to  the  play,  an  admirable  piece 


255 


256  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

of  work  of  Sardou's.  Irving,  always  eager  to 
show  his  gifted  partner  at  her  best,  saw  that  here 
was  a  character  to  fit  her,  though  this  proved 
somewhat  of  a  miscalculation.  It  was  translated 
by  his  son,  mounted  in  the  usual  tasteful  style, 
and  produced  in  April,  1897.  He  himself  took  the 
trifling  part  of  Napoleon,  to  which  his  stature  was 
a  serious  impediment.  This  difficulty  he  contrived 
to  surmount  by  some  of  the  ingenious  resources  of 
stagecraft.  He  made  the  part  impressive  and 
interesting — with  certainly  a  deep  suggestion  of  the 
Corsican's  character  and  gifts.  The  piece  was 
beautifully  "staged"  as  it  is  called,  and  was 
followed  with  much  interest.  Some  years  later  it 
became  an  English  opera  of  extraordinary  attrac- 
tion and  success.  It  was  to  be  lamented  that 
Sardou,  when  later  employed  to  write  for  the 
manager,  did  not  make  the  same  exertion,  and 
could  only  supply  very  inferior  work — no  doubt 
owing  to  a  national  contempt  for  the  English  stage 
as  compared  with  the  Parisian — a  contempt  shown 
by  his  never  crossing  the  Channel  to  see  how  his 
"  commissioned  "  pieces  were  produced  and  acted. 
In  another  view  this  play  was  of  ill  omen — as  at 
this  period  occurred  the  first  symptoms  of  incom- 
patibility between  the  actor-manager  and  his  gifted 
partner,  which  was  speedily  to  lead  to  separation. 

Miss  Terry  was  a  little  of  a  disappointment  :  the 
character  was  that  of  a  French  woman,  whereas 
she  seemed  to  portray  an  English  woman  of  a 
type  very  familiar.  Neither  was  she  as  coarsely 
exuberant  as  Rdijane.    The  piece  was  hardly  enthusi- 


SYMPTOMS   OF   DECAY  257 

astically  welcomed,  and   there  were   perhaps   signs 
of  indifference. 

Five  and  twenty  years  of  almost  uninterrupted 
prosperity  was,  perhaps,  as  much  as  the  most 
popular  actor  could  desire.  It  seemed,  indeed,  that 
about  this  time  fortune  seemed  to  tire  of  her 
favourite.  The  tide  was  about  to  turn.  He  was 
now  to  meet  a  series  of  rebuffs,  and  even  disasters, 
which  led  to  what  was  almost  a  catastrophe.  He 
had  revived,  I  think,  '  Richard  HI.'  with  new 
scenery,  effects,  &c.,  and  was  revelling  in  his  grim 
and  grotesque  personation  of  the  King.  The 
insolent  ignoring  of  Buckingham's  earnest  petition, 
the  rage  at  being  interrupted,  the  malignant 
pause  between  each  word,  the  sort  of  snarl  with 
which  he  said,  "  I'm  not  in  the  vein  " — nothing 
could  be  finer.  This  piece  excited  little  enthusiasm, 
and  yet  it  was  admirably  done.  On  the  first  night 
it  was  coldly  received  in  spite  of  all  the  lavish  outlay. 

My  old  friend,  that  admirable  and  measured 
critic,  Mr.  Knight,  says  justly  enough  of  '  Richard 
III.' — and  it  applies  equally  to  many  other  of  his 
performances — that  the  tragic  and  conventional 
element  was  dismissed  from  the  character  :  instead 
of  the  villainous,  crooked-backed  tyrant,  we  had  a 
laughter-moving  personage.  It  is  "a  character 
part."  The  reason  of  the  change  was  that  the 
realistic  was  substituted  for  the  old  conventional 
treatment.  This  raised  a  serious  speculation,  and 
so  important  a  change  in  treatment  should  make  us 
doubt ;  for  the  modern  rendering  of  Richard  seemed 
equally  composed  of  Louis  XI.  and  Mephisto. 

18 


258  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

This,  with  the  unmerited  treatment  of  '  Twelfth 
Night,'  might  be  considered  the  only  checks  he  had 
received — everything  had  been  triumphant.  But 
still  things  began  to  go  wrong.  Looking  back,  it 
seems  to  me  that  there  was  a  feeline  that  little 
more  could  be  expected.  All  were  familiar  with 
what  he  could  do :  he  was  not  likely  to  produce  any- 
thing novel.  They  had  "  travelled  over  his  mind," 
as  Johnson  once  said.  But  now  was  to  come  the 
most  serious  blow,  the  dissolution  of  the  partnership 
with  the  gifted  Ellen  Terry,  which  had  so  increased 
the  public  stock  of  harmless  pleasure. 

This  came  about  after  the  production  of  *  Madame 
Sans  Gene,'  and  though  the  pair  were  to  play 
together  hereafter,  the  partnership,  as  I  said,  was 
dissolved  for  good.  It  was  said  that  Irving  wished 
to  introduce  some  girlish  performer  who  might  be 
more  adapted  to  the  playing  of  ingenue  heroines. 
This  was  not  unnatural,  but  whatever  the  cause  the 
separation  could  not  be  averted.  One  result  of  this 
dearth  of  material  was  the  growing  tendency  to  fall 
back  on  the  old  productions,  and  from  this  time  we 
find  him  constantly  reviving  "  old  favourites." 
When  he  went  "on  tour"  this  was  found  very  con- 
venient— he  went  back  to  the  days  of  '  The  Bells  ' 
and  '  Merchant  of  Venice,'  and  these  with  *  The 
Lyons  Mail,'  '  Louis  XI.,'  and  later,  '  Becket,' 
became  his  regular  "  stock-pieces." ^ 

'  The  old  scenery  and  properties  for  these,  and  other  pieces, 
were  stored  away  in  a  special  warehouse.  In  his  later  days  one 
of  his  sore  trials  that  I  have  alluded  to  was  the  total  destruction 
of  this  emporium  by  fire,  entailing  the  greatest  loss  and  incon- 
venience.    His  troubles,  indeed,  came  in  battalions. 


SYMPTOMS   OF   DECAY  259 

The  secession  of  Miss  Terry  was  a  serious  loss 
indeed.      Half  the   interest  of  his  own  exhibitions 
was  gone  with  her,   for  it  was  notorious  that  many 
admirers  held  that  her's  was  the  secret  attraction  of 
the  theatre — that  her  magic  charm,   vivacity,   and 
versatility,    were    what    drew    the    audience ;  that, 
though   nominally   his   assistant,   her  talent  almost 
overpowered  his.     We  might  amend  this  unflatter- 
ing view  and  contend  that  each  was  necessary  to 
the   other,   and   from   constant  companionship   had 
come     to     draw     unsuspected    gifts    and     charms. 
A  great  actor  and  greater  actress  thus  furnishing 
entertainment    did    not    quite    amount    to    '*  actor 
management " — it  was    nearer  to  the  ideal   of  the 
evenly-balanced   company.       But  here   was    Irving 
now  left  alone  and  unsupported — the   Melpomene 
was  gone.     We  were  now  likely  to  have  unrelieved, 
"inspissated  gloom  "  and  declamation.' 

It  is  remarkable  what  a  dearth  of  talent  is  found 
nowadays,  and  after  what  long  intervals  it  shows 
itself.  It  seems  to  take  about  forty  or  fifty  years 
to  produce  original  gifts.  Then  follows  a  long 
reign  of  mediocrity.  With  all  his  blemishes,  Irving 
had  no  one  near  him  ;  no  one  has  surpassed  him. 
No  one  in  the  same  period  has  approached  Ellen 
Terry.  The  springs,  indeed,  seem  dried  up  now. 
It  is  near  forty  years  since  Dickens's  death,  and  no 
one  approaching  him  has  appeared. 

'  The  sparkling,  incompressible  Beatrice  has  for  some  years 
been  working  on  her  own  resources,  first  as  manageress,  with  new 
plays  of  an  unpractical  kind  and  offering  Mr.  Gordon  Craig  an 
opening  for  his  scenical  experiments,  and  later  in  characters  of 
middle  age,  as  in  Mr.  Barrie's  piece,  "  Alice  sit-by-the-Fire." 


260  SIR  HENRY   IRVING 

This  feeling  of  being  a  little  tired  of  their  hero 
was  not  an  unnatural  one,  considering  the  long 
period  his  sway  had  endured.  People  began  to 
repeat,  "  Oh,  here  is  the  same  thing  over  and  over 
again ! " — as  indeed  it  was,  and  was  obliged  to  be. 
He  was  eager  to  secure  novelty  could  he  find  it. 
The  wonder  was  that  during  the  almost  thirty  years 
no  rival  had  risen,  nor  has  any  risen  since,  though 
the  Shakespearian  decorator  and  upholsterer  has. 

While  we  are  lamenting  the  eminent  and  amiable 
actor's  loss,  we  should  recollect  that  there  was 
coming  on  with  advance  of  years  a  decay,  not  only 
in  his  strength  and  health,  but  in  his  methods. 
Nothinor  was  more  obvious  during-  the  last  few 
years  of  his  life,  than  the  gradual  weakening  of  his 
voice,  with  indistinctness  of  utterance.  He  seemed 
also  to  be  careless  of  stage  discipline,  and  would, 
during  his  own  or  other  persons'  speeches,  introduce 
strange  sounds  of  dissent,  exclamations,  which  was 
literally  no  more  than  "gag."  This,  he  seemed  to 
think,  imported  a  sort  of  spontaneous  and  degage 
tone  to  his  part.  His  new  reading  of  the 
Mephisto  had  too  much  of  this  would-be 
"buffoonery,"  he  making  jocose  comments  sotto 
voce  on  what  was  going  on  before  him. 

One  of  the  cries  most  frequently  heard,  and 
tediously  iterated,  even  by  friendly  advisers,  was 
his  persistent  neglect  of  the  "  native  talent."  True, 
there  was  not  much  "native  talent  "  about,  but  why 
not  call  to  his  side  the  Pineros,  Henry  Arthur  Jones' 
— beside  others  of  the  respectable  rank  and  file.'* 
He  was  warned — even  threatened,  with  disastrous 


SYMPTOMS   OF  DECAY  261 

consequences,  if  he  were  still  to  cling  to  the 
old  dramas.  Nothing  could  be  more  unfair.  A 
Lyceum  drama  was  and  should  be  sui  generis. 
The  house  required  a  largeness  of  treatment,  broad 
lines,  great  force  in  the  characters,  and,  above  all, 
the  piece  was  to  be  constructed — in  an  easy  natural 
way — round  the  two  main  characters. 

Irving's  admirers  were  now  to  be  rather  surprised 
at  his  next  proceeding.  It  is  rather  an  uncommon 
thing-  to  find  the  distinguished  manager  of  a  dis- 
tinguished  theatre  allowing  his  son  to  furnish  a  play, 
he  himself  taking  a  leading  part.  This  was  '  Peter 
the  Great,'  produced  in  January,  1898,  an  ambitious 
effort,  not  without  promise.  It  was,  indeed,  more  a 
descriptive  poem  than  a  play.  Irving  did  his  best 
with  the  hero  and  worked  laboriously,  reciting  many 
a  lengthy  speech  ;  but  he  excited  little  interest  in 
spite  of  a  good  deal  of  barbaric  show  and  local 
colour. 

During  its  short  run  the  oddity  was  witnessed  of 
the  young  author's  taking  his  father's  place  in  the 
leading  part.  This  was  hardly  judicious  policy  ;  as 
it  showed  either  too  much  parental  indulgence,  or 
some  indifference  to  what  the  public  might  think. 
Indeed,  it  was  hardly  a  compliment  to  the  audience 
to  ask  them  to  accept  a  substitute.  The  choice  of 
this  piece  betrayed,  as  I  believe,  the  anxiety  he  felt 
at  this  critical  stage  of  his  course.  Troubles  and 
difficulties  were  gathering  about  him,  and  to  these 
difficulties,  the  failure  of  several  plays  in  succession 
made  a  serious  addition.  And  yet  he  was  about  to 
strive  and  repair  all  by  a  very  doubtful  cast — he  had 


262  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

accepted  a  play  by  Messrs.  Traill  and  Hichens. 
This  was  called  "  The  Medicine  Man,"  which 
was  at  least  to  furnish  a  topic  of  wondering  specu- 
lation how  so  sagacious  a  judge  could  have  so 
deliberately  chosen  perhaps  the  weakest  and  most 
unsuitable  of  all  the  pieces  sent  to  him  for  perusal. 
It  turned  on  the  "antics,"  as  they  may  be  called, 
of  an  odd  physician — half  serious,  half  grotesque. 
But  the  audience  were  determined  not  to  take  it 
seriously,  and  before  the  close  mixed  laughter  and 
disapprobation  greeted  him.  Nothing  was  more 
mortifying  than  the  way  this  was  displayed.  They 
dared  not  boo  or  hoot,  but  there  was  somethine 
contemptuous  in  the  opposition.  They  put  the 
whole  thing  aside,  as  who  should  say,  "  You 
are  trying  a  joke  on  us ! "  The  pampered 
crowd  was  also  nettled  that  he  had  not  o-one 
to  the  usual  expense  and  extravagance.  He  was 
bound  to  ruin  himself,  they  thought,  in  enter- 
taining them.  It  was  plain  that  these  unexpected 
insults  wounded  him  grievously.  It  is  painful  to 
think  of  such  things.  But  the  public  is  often  thus 
brutal,  even  to  its  old  favourites.  Still,  apart  from 
its  merits  or  demerits,  every  one  thought  that 
such  a  class  of  piece  was  unsuited  to  the  Lyceum. 
It  was  withdrawn  almost  at  once,  and  something 
from  the  "stock"  substituted. 

But  this  was  to  prove  the  coup  de  grace — his  own 
illnesses  and  accidents,  with  the  failure  of  three 
plays  in  succession,  were  rude  shocks  too  strong  for 
him  to  encounter.  His  sensitive  temperament,  long 
accustomed  to  the   tides  of  success,   had   no  fibre 


SYMPTOMS  OF  DECAY  263 

with  which  to  encounter  disaster.  He  was  au  bout 
— and  in  truth  he  was  at  the  end  of  his  resources — 
without  money  put  by  for  a  rainy  day.  He  had 
lived  always  in  handsome  style. 

Accordingly  who  shall  forget  the  surprise,  when 
one  day  it  was  asked  mysteriously,  ''  Had  you  heard 
any  ritmours  about  Irving?  "  It  was  soon  spread 
about  that  money  was  short — that  large  sums  were 
owing  for  salaries,  &c.  An  index  of  this  sad  state 
of  affairs  was  the  sudden  appearance  at  auction  of 
many  of  his  prized  books,  collections,  rarities,  all 
which  brought  wretched  prices.  The  name  and 
book  plates,  &c.,  had  not  been  removed.  It  was 
presently  openly  said  that  he  could  no  longer  carry 
on  the  theatre. 

It  has  always  seemed  to  me  that  this  crisis  in  his 
affairs  was  rather  clumsily  handled.  Had  a  few  of 
his  wealthy  friends  been  called  into  council,  and  all 
matters  placed  in  their  hands,  they  would  have 
devised  a  scheme  for  his  extrication  ;  money  would 
have  been  found  to  satisfy  a  large  portion  of  his 
creditors.  But  no  doubt  his  own  lofty  pride  stood 
in  the  way.  I  never  learned  how  much  was  the 
sum  for  which  he  was  indebted — perhaps  thirty  or 
forty  thousand  pounds — but  it  is  certain  that  no 
one  would  have  pressed  him  unduly,  and  that  he 
would  have  found  as  indula;ent  creditors  as  did  Sir 
Walter  Scott  before  him.  What  was  he  to  do  now 
— go  round  the  provinces  or  set  off  for  America  ? 

But  now  his  old  friend,  Mr.  Comyns  Carr,  came 
to  his  rescue  with  a  bold  scheme.  It  was  agreed 
that,  considering  his  health  and  resources,  the  theatre 


264  SIR  HENRY   IRVING 

was  no  longer  to  be  relied  upon.  A  company  was 
to  be  formed,  the  shares  to  be  taken  up,  Mr. 
Comyns  Carr  was  to  be  secretary  or  managing- 
director,  and  Irving  was  to  accept  a  number  of 
shares  for  his  interest  while  contributing  a  "  short 
season  "  during  the  year  of  about  four  months — the 
rest  of  his  time  to  be  at  his  own  disposal  and  for  his 
own  profit.  It  must  have  been  a  wrench  thus  to 
have  his  kingdom  taken  from  him  ;  but  from  what 
a  burden  was  he  released !  Henceforth  he  was  a 
free  man  and  could  roam  where  he  willed.  He 
had  soon  arranged  his  debts  and  formed  a  modest 
travelling  company  to  go  round  the  kingdom  and 
later  to  the  States.  Through  this  trial,  which 
was  also  a  serious  mortification,  Irving  com- 
ported himself  with  a  dignity  and  resignation  that 
were  quite  admirable.  He  did  not  advertise  his 
sorrows,  or  make  claims  for  assistance  or  sympathy 
on  the  ground  of  past  service.  He  bore  all  like  a 
man,  and  did  his  best  to  extricate  himself.  He 
determined  to  undertake  the  dull  round  of  provincial 
touring,  visiting  places  where  he  had  not  been 
seen,  and  thus  work  a  fresh  mine  of  interest.  He 
made  a  most  successful  visit  to  the  United  States, 
where  he  was  received  with  all  the  old  enthusiasm 
and  affection.  It  was  remarkable  how  constant 
were  the  Americans  to  him,  they  never  seemed  to 
tire  of  him  and  his  plays.  He  came  and  yet  came 
ao"ain. 

o 

He  had,  now,  however,  to  cast  about  him  for 
some  suitable  actress  of  not  much  pretension  to 
play  the  supporting   female  characters.     He    thus 


ROBKSl'IKKKK     KKKl  KCIIM;. 
liy  llairy  Fuiuiss.     From  au  ongiiuil  ilrawiuK  kut  Ly  tbe  Artist. 

[To  face  iiaijc  265. 


SYMPTOMS   OF   DECAY  265 

adopted  Miss  Cissie  Loftus,  "Miss  Cecilia"  she 
became  for  the  Lyceum  dignity  ;  Miss  Feely, 
an  American  actress  ;  Miss  Mabel  Hackney,  later 
wife  of  his  son  Laurence  ;  and  finally  that  most 
interesting  and  graceful  performer,  the  creator  of 
*  Everyman,'  Miss  E.  Wynne-Mathieson.  This  ab- 
sence of  a  first-class  female  performer  obliged  him 
to  discard  some  of  the  more  important  pieces,  and 
henceforward  he  contented  himself  with  playing 
such  old  favourites  as  'The  Lyons'  Mail,'  'Merchant 
of  Venice,'  'Faust,'  'Becket,'  'The  Bells,'  and 
others,  where  the  whole  burden  was  thrown  upon 
his  single  self. 

In  April,  1899,  the  new  Lyceum  Company  having 
got  to  work  with  a  piece  by  Wills's  brother  ('  The 
Only  Way,'  another  variation  of  the  "  Tale  of  Two 
Cities "),  we  find  Irving  fulfilling  his  part  in  the 
contract,  by  appearing  with  his  "  Travelling  Com- 
pany " — for  such  it  was — in  a  new  piece. 

The  expropriated  manager  was  now  to  bring  for- 
ward a  Shakespearian  play  under  the  old  conditions. 
It  is  to  be  presumed  that  he  was  given  a  free  hand. 
The  play  chosen  was  the  long-deferred  and  often- 
announced  '  Coriolanus.'  He  had  lying  by  him  the 
scenery  designed  and  executed  long  before  by  a 
celebrated  artist,  but  which  seemed  ineffective. 
This  last  of  the  Shakespearian  revivals  was 
destined,  owing  to  the  ill-fortune  which  seemed  to 
pursue  Irving,  to  be  comparatively  unsuccessful, 
perhaps  from  the  feeling  that  this  was  not  "the  old 
Lyceum." 

Irving,  always  original  and  enterprising,  was  led 


266  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

on  by  the  success  of  '  Madame  Sans  Gene,'  to 
enter  into  treaty  with  Sardou,  to  adapt  a  drama 
to  his  own  measure,  suggesting  the  subject  of 
Robespierre.  To  this  he  was  drawn  by  his  own 
fancied  resemblance  to  the  great  "  sea  green,"  to  a 
certain  reserve  and  grotesqueness  found  in  both 
characters.  He,  as  it  were,  "  felt  "  the  man  before 
him.  Then  there  was  the  poetic  entourage,  the 
crowds,  red  caps,  procession,  ''Marseillaise,''  and  the 
rest.  But  had  not  these  things  been  presented  in 
'  The  Dead  Heart,'  which,  indeed,  offered  the  same 
topics  and  opportunities.  Sardou,  as  is  his  wont, 
fashioned  a  story  of  his  own,  without  any  regard  to 
historical  or  biographical  accuracy.  There  was  an 
illegitimate  son  introduced,  whose  parent  Miss 
Terry  was  to  enact.  Hence  some  movingly 
pathetic  scenes :  the  mother  pleading  for  the 
son,  the  "  sea  green "  stern  for  a  while,  yet 
moved  himself  and  softened.  Indeed,  there  were 
scenes  when  the  great  man  was  shown  at  home, 
relaxing,  with  a  tender  heart,  and  enjoying  the 
placid  joys  of  the  domestic  fireside ! 

The  play  was  produced  on  April  15th,  and  Miss 
Terry,  who  had  a  rather  conventional  part,  rejoined 
the  company.  It  must  be  said,  Robespierre  was 
one  of  Irving's  most  striking  "character  "  parts;  the 
general  figure  and  bearing,  with  a  sort  of  quaintness, 
still  live  in  the  memory,  and  are  revived  in  Mr. 
Harry  Furniss'  spirited  sketch  of  him,  where  the 
half  grotesque  expression  of  the  actor  is  caught  to 
the  very  life. 

One  of  the  attractions  at  the  Irving  sale  was  a 


ACT  III. 

The  nervous  and   suspicious  Robespierre. 

By_kind  permission  of  Mr.  Harry  Furiiiss  autl  the  Proprietors  of  the  "  Daily  Telegraph." 


[T(i  face  jmrfe  267. 


SYMPTOMS   OF  DECAY  267 

huge  volume  overflowing  with  prints  and  illustrations 
all  dealing  with  the  period  of  the  French  Revolution, 
There  were  costumes,  portraits,  and  everything 
connected  with  the  subject.  These  Irving  had 
diligently  collected  when  he  was  preparing-  this  play. 
This  showed  his  earnest  conscientiousness.  Yet 
surely  this  seems  so  much  waste  and  misspent 
labour,  expended,  moreover,  in  the  wrong  direction. 
The  costumiers,  property  men,  and  scenic  artists 
are  all  fully  equipped  with  the  conventional  types  of 
the  period  quite  sufficiently  to  set  forth  the  piece. 
All  minute  archaeological  details  are  thrown  away 
upon  an  audience  who,  moreover,  have  not  sufficient 
knowledge  to  appreciate  or  even  notice  them.  But 
all  this  is  associated  with  a  false  and  rather  corrupt 
principle  of  stage  illustration — which  would  make  of 
the  stage  itself  a  sort  of  old  curiosity  shop  and  his- 
torical panorama.  The  effect  is,  as  of  those  museums 
at  Amsterdam  and  other  cities,  where  we  are  shown 
rooms  filled  with  figures  in  national  costumes  of 
different  periods.  The  spirit  of  the  time  is  what  is 
required,  and  a  close  study  of  Carlyle's  glowing 
book — written  in  letters  of  fire — would  have  helped 
far  more.  We  wanted  the  Revolution  acted  rather 
than  shown.  Nothing,  as  a  spectacle,  could  have 
been  finer  than  the  Procession  of  the  Supreme 
Being,  but  it  was  really  no  more  than  a  costly  shoiv. 
Antoine,  that  strange  and  remarkable  actor  and 
organizer,  once  gave  a  realistic,  lurid  sketch  of  the 
trial  and  execution  of  the  Due  D'Enghien — any  one 
who  witnessed  it  could  never  forget  the  perfect  im- 
pression it  left  of  the  Napoleonic  era ;  it  was  all  so 


268  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

vivid  and  concentrated  and  distilled  to  the  very 
essence.  Yet  there  were  only  a  couple  of  scenes 
and  scarcely  any  decoy's.  But  all  were  permeated 
with  the  spirit. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1904  our  actor  was  to 
"  produce  " — cest  le  7not  ^ — the  very  last  of  all  his 
long  line  of  pieces — '  Dante.' 

"  How  like  Dante  !  it  would  be  an  ideal  part!  " 
again  exclaimed,  in  rapture,  admirers  and  adulators  ; 
and  certainly  the  two  faces  were  strangely  alike. 
Irving  no  doubt  fancied  himself  parading  the  stage 
with  slow  strides,  and  gazing  dreamily  at  the  pit. 
He  dreamed  that  they  would  associate  him  somehow 
with  all  the  genius  of  poetry  and  romance — exhibit- 
ing the  poet  in  his  work.  This  poetical  notion,  I 
am  convinced,  was  the  reason  of  his  choice.  Did 
he  say  ever  so  little,  his  fine  features  would  still 
discourse  for  him  !  Yet  it  was  to  prove  an  utterly 
disappointing  business.  Sardou  completely  failed, 
and  that  true  trader  in  plays  did  not  seem  to  have 
exerted  himself.  It  was  a  poor,  skimpy,  story- 
less,  passionless  thing  —  likely  enough  what  is 
familiarly  called  "a  pot-boiler,"  very  different  from 
the  powerful  things  he  fashioned  for  the  "divine 
Sarah,"  and  which  have  gone  round  the  world. 
The  shrewd  Parisian,  who  received  a  good  price  for 

'  The  American  managers  now  among  us  use  a  strange  jargon 
of  their  own,  by  way  of  securing  credit  for  what  is  done  off  the 

stage.     They  now   "present"  Mr. or  Miss in  a   new 

play,  which  is  "  produced  "  by  some  one  else,  "stage-managed  " 
by  another,  and  written  by  one  less  important  than  the  rest. 
Thus  there  is  the  manager,  stage-manager,  producer,  under  the 
direction  of  the  "  presenter." 


Irving  with  Miss  Lkna  Ashwell  in  "  Dante, 
AT  Drurv  Lanf.  Theatre  (igo3). 


To  face  p.  2m 


SYMPTOMS   OF  DECAY  269 

his  work,  also  took  care  to  benefit  his  compatriots, 
and  "recommended"  a  painter  for  the  scenes,  with 
a  special  composer  for  the  music.  This  scenery, 
though  pretentious,  was  scarcely  so  good  or  effective 
as  would  have  been  furnished  at  home,  while  the 
music  was  of  the  crude  "advanced"  sort,  which 
was  too  deep  for  the  audience.  The  composer 
overflowed  in  his  abundance,  and  was  confounded 
when  the  ever-tranquil  and  smiling  manager  pro- 
ceeded to  "cut  out"  wholesale  and  hew  in  all 
directions,  throwing  over  all  top  hamper.  There 
was  much  indignation  in  the  Parisian  journals. 
But  if  the  piece  were  bad  and  uninteresting,  it  could 
hardly  have  been  redeemed  by  Irving's  acting. 
He  was,  indeed,  the  great  poet  for  the  first  few 
minutes,  as  he  stood  or  moved  about,  gazing  from 
beneath  his  cowl  and  toga,  which  he  was  perpetu- 
ally draping  on  his  arm,  or  throwing  over  his 
shoulder.  His  voice  was  at  this  time  weak  and 
thin  ;  his  speech  slow  and  monotonous — it  was 
more  a  recitation  than  acting.  In  fact  he  was  not 
Dante.  There  was  little  or  no  passion  or  action. 
The  character  made  no  impression  and  seemed  to 
be  overpowered  by  the  noisy,  riotous  crowds  that 
overflowed  the  piece.  At  the  more  dramatic,  or 
perhaps  less  dull,  moments  of  the  piece,  he  became 
almost  extinct,  looking  on  in  a  sort  of  helpless 
fashion  at  what  was  going  forward.  Irving,  it  may 
be  noted,  never  could  dominate  the  crowd  as  the 
great  classical  actors  could  do.  He  must  have  his 
stage  to  himself,  he  and  his  audience.  This  was 
shown  in  '  Robespierre,'  where  though  he  raved  and 


270  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

shrieked  at  the  mob,  he  seemed  overpowered  ;  quite 
a  cypher.  So  with  the  "  I  banish  yoti ! "  in  his 
'  Coriolanus.'  The  faithful,  however,  saw  none  of 
these  blemishes,  but  thought  all  good.  It  was  the 
man — the  personality,  they  loved  to  look  on — their 
old  friend.  In  the  country  when  it  was  taken  on 
tour,  it  was  hardly  tolerated. 

But  in  spite  of  these  efforts  it  was  presently 
rumoured  that  all  was  not  going  well  with  the 
Lyceum  Company.  The  rosy  forecasts  of  success 
were  not  being  justified — there  were  protests  and 
clamours  from  dissatisfied  shareholders.  At  the 
meetings  even  the  late  manager  was  not  spared, 
until  the  faithful  Stoker  had  to  announce  that  he 
had  suffered  more  than  the  rest. 

But  presently  was  to  fall  a  swinging  stroke,  which 
completely  wrecked  the  unlucky  company.  This 
was  a  peremptory  summons  from  the  inquisition  of 
the  London  County  Council  to  put  their  house  in 
order,  at  the  tremendous  cost  of  nearly  ;^20,ooo. 
Their  coffers  were  empty.  They  might  raise  the  sum, 
but  the  charge  would  swamp  the  enterprise.  One 
could  understand  how  the  immense  prestige  of 
Irving  should  have  kept  off  so  long  the  inspecting 
intruders,  but  it  seemed  strange  how  the  Paul  Prys 
of  the  Council,  busy  with  all  the  theatres,  should 
have  overlooked  it.  Nor  was  this  requisition  un- 
reasonable or  made  too  soon.  The  wonder  was 
that  things  had  been  allowed  to  go  on  so  long,  for 
it  was  a  simple  death-trap.  Who  will  forget  the 
appalling  tunnels  that  led  to  the  stalls,  where  only 
two  could  pass,  and  where  a  cry  of  fire  would  have 


|CHf^VA-BUC^ 


lK\iNr,  AS  "  Dantk 


To  face  j).  270. 


SYMPTOMS   OF   DECAY  271 

been  destruction  !  Every  portion  of  it  was  honey- 
combed with  contrivances  to  secure  extra  room. 
The  back  portion  of  the  pit  was  Hke  a  cellarage. 
When  the  demand  was  presented  the  unhappy 
shareholders  saw  no  issue  before  them  save  that 
of  ofettino-  rid  of  the  whole  concern.  It  was 
accordingly  sold  to  a  Music  Hall  Company,  and 
razed  to  the  ground !  But  before  this  catastrophe 
Irving  had  dissolved  his  connection  with  the  place. 
He  had  given  his  final  performance  there  in  July, 
1903 — 'The  Merchant  of  Venice,'  the  last  as  it 
was  the  first  and  best  of  all  his  delineations  in 
the  famous  old  house.  As  he  quitted  the  Doge's 
Court  with  his  famous  scowl,  I  wonder  did  he 
think  of  that  night,  some  twenty-four  years  before 
— one  of  tumultuous  rapture  and  enjoyment  and 
which  set  the  very  seal  to  his  fame  ;  or  could  he 
have  divined  that  within  a  couple  of  years  the 
theatre  would  be  levelled  and  he  himself  borne  up 
the  aisles  of  Westminster  Abbey  ? 


CHAPTER    XIX 


RING    DOWN    THE    CURTAIN 


^7[  T'E  have  now  to  contemplate  the  closing 
V  V  scene  of  this  strenuous  and  romantic 
career.  After  his  long  and  brilliant  course,  it  was 
a  rude  shock  to  find  that  he  had,  as  it  were,  to 
begin  the  world  anew,  and  this  feeling,  no  doubt, 
disheartened  and  perhaps  weakened  him.  He  must 
have  had  a  strong  constitution  to  stand  the  strain 
of  his  nigh  fifty  years'  hard  work,  but  these  latter 
failures  must  have  made  him  despondent,  while  his 
irregular  fashion  of  turning  nights  into  days,  kept  up 
for  years,  must  have  laid  the  foundation  of  illness  or 
disease.  A  constant  strain  of  work  and  responsi- 
bility without  recuperation  by  sleep  is  sure  to  work 
on  the  nerves  and  on  the  heart,  and  this  proved  to 
be  the  case  in  Irving's  instance.  Scott,  Dickens, 
Irving,  all  three  became  victims  to  this  overwork — 
a  sad  warning!  Dickens  fancied  that  he  could 
strain  the  machine  just  "  one  little  bit  more,"  and 
then  would  relax  and  retire.  Irving  wished  to 
make  something  for  his  old  age  from  these  final 
performances  in  the  provinces,  but  miscalculated 
his  strength. 

272 


Sir  Henrv  Ir\in(',. 
From  a  late  photo.^raph  by  Histcd. 


7"o/,(ct-/>,  '273. 


RING   DOWN   THE   CURTAIN  273 

For  a  year  before  his  death  there  were  symptoms 
of  a  breakdown  in  health.  At  one  of  the  Boz 
Club's  dinners,  where  I  had  prevailed  on  him  to  take 
the  chair,  he  looked  sadly  aged,  quite  an  old  man, 
his  hair  whitening  rapidly.  He  made  a  speech 
which  seemed  rather  of  a  rambling  sort,  chiefly 
about  "  Crummies  and  his  pumps,"  which  he  reiter- 
ated again  and  again,  as  though  the  mere  sound  of 
the  words  was  sufficiently  comic.  But  a  few  weeks 
before  his  death  a  well-known  personage,  who  had 
been  dining  in  his  company  and  sitting  beside  him, 
told  me  how  shocked  he  was  by  his  condition. 
Nothing  better  shows  the  almost  appalling  change 
in  his  features  than  a  photograph  taken  only  a  few 
weeks  before  his  death  for  the  Sphere. 

Before  he  set  out  on  his  last  provincial  circuit  in 
1905,  it  was  understood  that  he  was  to  make  one 
farewell  visit  to  the  States.  But  as  the  progress 
went  on,  he  seems  to  have  shrunk  from  the  task, 
and  it  appears  to  have  been  debated  whether  this 
should  not  be  abandoned.  More  significant  was 
the  notice  issued  a  week  or  so  before  the  event, 
withdrawing  '  The  Bells  '  from  his  programme  as 
too  exhausting.  These  things  ought  to  have  sup- 
plied warning;  but  who  heeds  such  warning .-^ 
However,  he  pursued  his  drudging  course  from 
town  to  town,  receiving  addresses  and  civic  honours 
as  he  went  on — compliments  which  naturally  pleased 
him  and  took  off  his  thoughts  from  his  state.  On 
this — his  last  as  it  proved — tour,  Irving  came  to 
places  where  he  had  never  visited  before,  and  found 
novelty  and  tumultuous  encouragement.     At  Cardiff 

19 


274  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

particularly  he  made  a  deep  impression.  After  the 
play  had  concluded,  the  Welsh  enthusiasts  broke 
out  into  the  hymn,  '*  God  be  with  you  till  we  meet 
again."  Surely  never  before  in  the  annals  of  the 
stage  has  an  actor  been  greeted  thus — with  a  hymn. 
It  was  a  remarkable  sight,  Sir  Henry  standing 
reverently  on  the  stage  listening  with  bowed  head 
to  the  sacred  song,  charged  as  it  was  with  affectionate 
regard. 

And  thus  as  the  days  went  by  he  felt  the  ligatures 
coiling-  tio-hter  about  his  heart.  Each  nig-ht  worn  and 
sinking,  he  must  have  returned  spent  and  exhausted. 
The  same  old  weary  routine — 'The  Bells,'  Brewster, 
Shylock  and  Becket — "  Backet"  as  he  would  call  it 
— who  could  stand  the  wearing  grind  of  that  stage 
machinery  going  on  from  eight  till  eleven  ?  And 
this — all  this  for  a  poor  frail  being  such  as  he 
was  ! 

This  ending  of  one  of  the  most  successful  and 
admired  of  his  veneration  was  sad  enouo-h.  But 
there  was  present  an  almost  tragical  element  to  add 
to  the  poignancy  of  his  state — the  alarming  pre- 
cariousness  of  his  position.  When  he  had  announced 
his  retirement,  no  doubt  dictated  by  the  condition 
of  his  health,  he  reckoned  that  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  friends,  and  the  general  rush  to  see  him  for  the 
last  time,  would  enable  him  to  make  a  sufficient 
provision  for  his  declining  years.  And  many,  indeed, 
made  certain  that  this  provision  had  been  in  part 
secured.  But  a  number  of  disastrous  accidents 
were  to  frustrate  these  plans — the  failure  of  the 
Lyceum  Company,  the  breakdown    of   his  health, 


RING   DOWN   THE   CURTAIN  275 

which  entailed  the  withdrawal  of  his  most  effective 
characters  as  being  too  agitating,  and,  above  all,  the 
abandonment  of  the  American  tour,  which  he 
counted  on  as  a  perfect  mine  of  gold.  All  that 
was  left  was  the  touring  from  town  to  town — an 
expensive  business,  as  he  carried  round  with  him  his 
company,  scenes,  properties,  &c.^ 

What,  then,  was  to  become  of  him  when  he  finally 
took  leave  ?  All  he  could  hope  for  was  a  few 
thousand  pounds  to  be  gathered  during  the  last  few 
weeks  of  his  appearance.  To  one  of  his  taste  and 
habits  a  few  hundreds  a  year  would  be  beggary. 

It  will  be  said,  however,  that  he  left  behind  him  a 
substantial  sum,  nigh  twenty  thousand  pounds,  result 
of  the  sale  of  his  collections.  But  by  an  odd  perverse 
fate  this  sum  could  not  have  existed  during  his  life- 
time, for  he  had  to  die  to  give  it  existence.  It  was 
his  prestige  as  a  dead  actor  that  enhanced  the  price 
to  four  or  five  times  its  value.^ 

So,  in  addition  to  his  physical  sufferings,  there  was 
added  the  poignant  feeling  of  anxiety  as  to  the 
future.  What  was  to  become  of  him  with  no 
income — nothing-  saved  ? 

Add  to  this  that  he  had  to  carry  a  smiling, 
triumphant  face,  to  make  a  brave,  imperial  show,  to 
be  liberal  and  lavish  as  was  his  wont,  to  receive  his 
honours  ;  while  all  the  shouting  lookers-on  assumed 

^  At  the  time  of  his  death  he  had  been  "on  the  road"  some 
months,  yet  it  does  not  appear  from  his  will  that  profits  were 
made,  or  if  they  were  they  had  been  expended. 

^  This  is  no  mere  speculation  as  a  portion  of  these  effects  was 
sold  in  his  lifetime,  and  brought  prices  far  below  their  value. 


276  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

he  was  the  most  fortunate  of  men,  and  "  coining 
money."  All  the  while  the  broken  actor  had  this 
weight  at  his  heart — mental  as  well  as  physical. 

Now  let  us  think  of  the  poor,  harassed  creature, 
suffering  in  body,  filled  with  gnawing  anxieties, 
and  hopeless  for  the  future,  and  see  how  deep  was 
the  tragedy  of  it  all !  In  vain  the  doctors  bade  him 
take  care.  Go  forward  he  must ;  though  his  heart 
sank  and  failed,  money  must  be  got,  for  he  was 
committed  to  engagements.  And  how  chilling  for 
him  was  the  thought  that  loomingf  ahead  was  the 
serious  business  of  the  whole — the  "  Farewells  "  in 
great  cities,  the  packed  masses,  the  shoutings,  the 
call  for  exertion.  How  should  he  face  that.-*  Finally 
we  must  think  of  him  as  he  appeared  on  that  last 
night,  when  he  sank  down  virtually  alone.  There 
was  none  near  him,  no  friend  or  relative  near  to 
comfort,  soothe,  or  give  hopes.  He  had  indeed  his 
trusted  lieutenants,  but  they  had  their  serious 
work.  Disdainfully  he  shut  up  his  sorrows  within 
himself 

It  was  while  he  was  playing  at  Wolverhampton, 
in  February,  some  eight  months  before  his  death, 
that  he  had  a  serious  premonitory  warning  of  what 
was  impending.  He  had  already  learned  that  he  was 
sufferino-  from  enlaro^ed  heart — a  ©"rave  and  serious 
danger — and  as  rest  and  absence  of  violent  excite- 
ment was  absolutely  necessary  for  his  safety,  he 
should  have  withdrawn  from  work,  just  as  Dickens, 
on  a  premonition  of  another  kind  of  attack,  at  once 
suspended  his  readings,  though,  like  Irving,  he 
unhappily  resumed  his  labours.     If  ever  there  was 


Cbeatre  Ropal  Bradford. 


Le«ee  JOHN     HART. 


MONDAY,   OCTOBER    9th.  1905,   FOR    SIX    NIGHTS. 


OF 

HENRY    IRVING 

AND      HIS      COMPANY. 

TUESDAY  and   FRID.AY   NIGHTS,  Oct.   10th  and  I.Uh,  at  7.30 

BECKETT 

By  ALFRED    LORD    TENNYSON. 

AD.APIKI)    FOR    IHK   STA(_;E    I;V    HENRY    IRVING. 

Ti  T>     1    .      '    Chancellor  of  England,    |  ucwdv   iD\/iMr 

Thomas  Becket     -,    afterwards  Archbishop     / HENRY   IRVING 

Henry  II.  (King  of  England) Mr,  GERALD  LAWRENCE 

King  Louis  of  France Mr.   H.   B.  STANFORD 

Gilbert  Foliot  (Bishop  of  London) Mr.    H.   ASHETON    TONGE 

Roger  (Archbishop  of  York)  ; Mr.  WILLIAM   Ll'GG 

John  of  Salisbury       I     Friends  of    (  Mr.    MARK    I'ATON 

Herbert  of  Hosham    /         Becket        (  Mr.  JAMES   HEARN 

John  of  O.xford  (Called   the  Swearer) Mr.    V.    REYNOLDS 

Sir  Reginald   Fitzurs-    \        The  Four  Knights  of        ( Mr.   FR.^NK  T\'ARS 

Sir    Richard  de    Brito     I        the    Kings   Household,         I  Mr.   G.    GRAVSTONK 

Sir  William  de  Tracy    ("  Enemies  of  1  Mr.   L.    BELMORE 

Sir   Hugh  de  .Morville  j  Becket  \ Mr.   LESLIE    PALMER 

Richard  de   Hastings  (Grand   Prior  of  Templars) Mr.  J.   ARCHF.R 

The  N'oungest   Knight   Templar Mr.   STF^VIiNS 

Lord   Leicester Mr.  VINCENT  STERNROVI) 

Philip  de   ICleemosvna  (The   Pope's  Almoner) Mr.   W.     ].    VICLD.M.XN 

Herald ' ^L;  H.   R.   COOK 

Monk -Mr.  A.  CURNEV 

(jeofVrey  (Son   of  Rosamund  and    Heiuy)    Master    TC^NCjE 

„       .  (    Mr.   A.    FISHER 

''^'^••'""^'■^ i  Mr.   HAYES 

^  (    Mr.  CHARLES  DODSWORTH 

Servant Mr.  W.   MARION 

11  r    \         .    ■  i    Oueen   (jf   England,   divorced     |  ,,         rr^ir     n  \\  i    ir'u 

I'Jeanor  of  .Xiiuatainc-     {     ^     r  j       ■       r  l-  1  Mrs.  CECIL   R.aLF.KjH 

'  (  Ironi    Louis  of    France  / 

Margery Miss  GRACE    HAMPTON 

Rosamund  de  Cliffotd  (Fair  Ro>aminid) .Mi^s    EDITH    W^■NXE    MAI  IHISON 

Knights,  Monks,   Heralds,  Soldiers.   Retainers,  &c. 


['I  0  face  vaijc  276. 


RING  DOWN  THE   CURTAIN  277 

a  play  likely  to  bring  on  a  crisis  it  was  surely  the 
tempestuous  'Bells,'  and  even  'Becket'  was  trying 
enough.  His  doctor  had  specially  interdicted  the 
former  piece,  but  the  actor  felt  that  half  his  attrac- 
tion would  be  gone  without  it. 

"  He  promised  me  not  to  play  in  '  The  Bells  ' 
again,"  said  Dr.  Davis  to  a  Wolverhampton 
correspondent,  "  but  when  I  heard  of  his  death  I 
was  much  afraid  that  he  had  been  doinsf  so.  He 
has  died  from  practically  the  same  thing  from  which 
he  suffered  at  Wolverhampton.  Sir  Henry,  how- 
ever, always  thought  of  the  public,  and  though 
unfit  to  go  on  the  stage,  he  persisted  in  playing 
Becket  on  the  second  night  at  Wolverhampton. 
An  armchair  was  placed  for  him  in  the  wings,  and 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  more  severe  parts  he  fell 
into  the  chair  utterly  exhausted.  It  was  impossible 
to  remove  him  from  Wolverhampton  for  many  days, 
but  complete  rest  and  quiet,  combined  with  his 
determination  to  get  into  harness  again,  enabled 
him  to  continue  his  tour,  though  the  American  trip 
had  to  be  abandoned  and  many  other  important 
engagements  cancelled."  ^ 

And  now  was  to  arrive  the  fateful  closing  scene — 
almost  on  the  scenic  boards — on  the  night  of  October 
14,  1905,  when  he,  worn,  weary  of  heart,  was  to 
"crack"  under  its  burden.  It  was  at  the  Theatre 
Royal,  Bradford,  where  was  welcomed  with  civic 
honours — "freedom  of  the  city,"  Guildhall  lunch. 
Mayor  in  the  chair,  &c.  Here  is  the  bill — the  very 
last  bill  of  that  long  fifty  years'  struggle.  The 
'  Daily  Mail,  October  1 6. 


278  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

first  has  been  given — and  how  much  between.  ^ 
Here  is  the  usual  "Henry  Irving" — not  the  "Sir 
Henry." 

I  take  the  following  account  of  the  last  incidents 
from  the  Daily  Mail  of  October   i6th  : — 

"  None  of  his  company  at  the  Bradford  Theatre 
Royal  had  observed  during  the  performance  on 
Friday  night  anything  in  the  bearing  of  their  chief 
to  warrant  the  belief  that  he  was  ill.  If  anything, 
Sir  Henry's  portrayal  of  his  favourite  character  was 
more  powerful  than  usual. 

"  His  comrades  now  recall  that  once  or  twice  his 
step  seemed  to  falter  and  his  hand  steal  out  to  sup- 
port himself.  But  the  first  premonition  of  anything 
serious  did  not  come  until  the  end  of  the  last  scene, 
where  Becket  dies.  Asa  rule,  Sir  Henry  fell  prone 
on  the  stage.  On  Friday  night,  however,  he  sank 
on  the  altar  steps. 

"  I  do  commend  my  cause  to  God.  .  .   . 
Into  Thy  hands,  O  Lord — into  Thy  hands." 

"  These,  the  last  words  of  Becket,  were  the  last 
to  be  uttered  on  the  stage  by  the  great  actor. 

"  For  some  moments  after  the  curtain  had  fallen 
Sir  Henry  lay  on  the  altar  steps.  An  attendant 
hurried  to  his  assistance,  and  touching  his  hands, 
found  that  they  'felt   quite  cold.'     To  the  inquiry 

^  I  have  an  extraordinary  collection  of  Lyceum  bills — one 
for  every  night  of  performance — so  most  are  mere  repetitions. 
As  they  are  all  well  bound  in  volumes,  I  fancy  they  had  belonged 
to  the  actor  himself. 


RING  DOWN  THE   CURTAIN  279 

whether  he  was  ill,  Sir  Henry  Irving  made  no 
reply. 

**  The  curtain  was  raised  and  lowered  several  times. 
Struggling  to  his  feet  in  a  confused  way,  Sir  Henry 
turned  to  Mr.  Belmore,  his  assistant  stage-manager, 
who  offered  his  hand  to  pilot  him. 

•' '  What  now  ?  '  said  Sir  Henry. 

"  '  They  are  calling  for  you,'  answered  Mr.  Bel- 
more.  '  You  must  make  a  speech,  sir.'  He  hesi- 
tated for  a  moment,  then  slowly  went  before  the 
footlights  and  spoke  a  few  words  of  thanks. 

"  In  his  room  he  dressed  slowly.  He  was  tired 
and  exhausted,  but  not  worse  than  he  had  been  on 
two  or  three  previous  occasions. 

"In  this  condition  the  great  actor  performed  a 
characteristically  kind  act.  A  Bradford  boy,  aged 
fifteen,  named  Frederick  C.  P.  Mobbs,  employed  in 
a  shipping  house,  had  two  nights  previously  made 
a  sketch  of  Sir  Henry  and  left  it  at  the  stage  door 
with  the  request  that  the  actor  might  be  pleased  to 
attach  his  autograph  to  it.  The  youthful  artist 
again  visited  the  theatre  on  Friday  night,  and  after 
the  conclusion  of  the  performance  timidly  inquired 
of  the  manager  if  Sir  Henry  had  yet  complied  with 
his  request.  He  was  instructed  to  wait  until  the 
drawing  had  been  signed.  It  was  returned  to  him 
with  the  desired  autograph  at  11.15.  A  few 
minutes  later  the  dying  actor  was  being  assisted 
into  a  cab  by  his  valet. 

"  As  Sir  Henry  entered  the  cab,  he  remarked  to 
him,  'Are  you  not  coming  in  to-night."*'  The 
attendant  thereupon  accompanied  him  to  the  Mid- 


280  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

land  Hotel,  where  Sir  Henry  had  engaged  a  suite 
of  rooms.  His  secretary  also  occupied  a  seat  in  the 
cab.  During  the  drive  Sir  Henry  rested  his  feet 
on  the  seat  opposite,  and  seemed  in  pain,  but  made 
no  remark. 

"  He  alighted  from  the  cab  without  assistance 
and  walked  into  the  hotel,  but  as  he  entered  the 
hall  he  stumbled  and  lurched  forward.  Mr.  Shep- 
herd, however,  who  was  immediately  behind,  caught 
him  before  he  could  fall."  He  then  asked  faintly 
for  a  chair,  and  when  he  was  seated  almost  instantly 
expired. 

There  is  something  pathetic  and  tragic  about 
this  scene.  It  was  often  noted  that  his  last  words 
on  the  stage  were,  "  Into  Thy  hands,  O  Lord." 
R.I. P.  But  those  who  are  too  accustomed  to 
"visualise"  find  it  hard  to  shut  out  the  thoughts 
and  dreams  that  must  have  visited  him  that  long 
and  arduous  night.  The  constricting,  deadly  grip — 
the  sinking — the  purpose  to  get  through  to  the 
end — the  strange  feeling  between  the  acts  as  he 
strove  to  "pull  himself  together" — what  if  he 
had  heard  a  whisper — "  Before  midnight  the 
curtain  will  have  fallen  for  yoiL,  for  ever,  as  well 
as  for  Becket." 

The  remains  of  the  actor  were  cremated,  accord- 
ing to  his  desire,  and  at  the  funeral  in  the 
Abbey  were  carried  in  a  coffin  to  their  resting- 
place.  In  this  there  seemed  something  of  the 
usual  make-believe  or  simulation  of  the  stage. 

The  supreme  honours  of  the  Abbey  were  really 
paid  to  the  exceeding  personality  of  the  man,   for 


RING  DOWN  THE   CURTAIN  281 

it  could  not  be  contended  that  his  professional 
merits  reached  the  highest  standard.  The  Spectator, 
I  think  of  all  the  journals,  was  alone  in  disapproval 
of  the  place  of  burial.  Much  could  be  said  on 
both  sides  of  the  question,  and  a  man  of  sterner 
fibre  than  the  present  Dean — such  as  Dean  Stanley 
— would  not  have  yielded  his  consent,  save  under 
the  greatest  pressure.  I  give  no  opinion  on  the 
point,  save  this,  that  when  public  opinion  unani- 
mously and  tumultuously  calls  for  the  privilege  it 
would  be  ungracious  and  perhaps  impossible  to  resist. 
Even  serious  objection  or  discussion  in  presence  of 
the  unburied  is  thought  scarcely  decent ;  neither  is 
there  time  to  discuss,  and  so  the  matter  is  hurried 
through.  Most  impressive  was  the  ceremonial  in 
the  Abbey,  the  solemn  music,  the  gathering  of  dis 
tinguished  persons,  and  the  stately  procession. 
One  of  the  pall-bearers  was  a  noble  lord,  the 
Earl  of  Aberdeen ;  yet  one  could  not  but  feel 
a  little  surprise  that  on  such  an  occasion  more  of 
that  company  of  noble  and  distinguished  people 
whom  he  so  often  fSted  were  not  in  attendance. 
This  may  be  but  a  fanciful  notion.  But,  after  all, 
he  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  his  own  profession,  which  was  the 
right  thing.  The  French  Comedy  sent  a  deputa- 
tion, who  brought  with  them  a  wreath,  and  also, 
it  is  believed,  a  prepared  ^loge,  which,  as  might 
be  expected,  was  not  delivered. 

Few  can  imagine  what  a  personage  Irving  was 
in  the  eyes  of  both  French  and  Germans.  His 
romantic    course     and     methods,     his     noble    and 


282  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

generous  hospitalities  to  foreigners  of  his  pro- 
fession, his  intimacy  with  the  leading  performers, 
these  things  made  him  quite  familiar  abroad. 
To  the  leaders — to  the  immortal  Sarah,  Coquelin, 
Mounet  Sully — he  was  overwhelming  in  his  atten- 
tions. The  two  latter  bewailed  his  loss  sincerely, 
and  were  lavish  in  their  praises.  Mounet  Sully  said 
of  him  :  "  I  cannot  speak  so  soon  after  his  death 
without  emotion  of  Irving,  my  brother  tragedian 
and  the  master  of  us  all.  As  a  man,  as  an  actor, 
and  as  a  manager  he  stands  out  as  one  of  the 
great  figures  in  the  history  of  the  stage.  His 
nobility  of  character  shone  in  everything  he  did, 
both  on  the  stage  and  off  it,  and  I  can  assure 
you  that  his  loss  is  felt  among  us  here  at  the 
Comedie  Fran9aise  deeply  and  sincerely." 

The  testimony  of  Coquelin  is  full  and  so  very 
remarkable  from  its  sincerity  and  obvious  truth 
that  it  should  be  given  at  length  : — 

"  I  hardly  know  how  to  find  words  in  which 
to  express  my  sorrow,"  Coquelin  said.  "  Irving 
has  been  my  friend  for  over  thirty  years.  I  have 
never  been  to  London  without  seeing  him  con- 
stantly, and  scarcely  a  week  has  passed  throughout 
our  friendship  without  some  token  of  his  affection 
reaching  me.  Only  last  week  two  friends  of  his 
came  over  who  had  seen  him  on  his  provincial 
tour.  They  told  me  that  he  seemed  better  than 
I  had  hoped,  and  in  brighter  spirits,  and  the  news 
of  his  death,  coming  as  it  did  so  quickly  after 
this  sfood  news,  grave  me  a  shock  from  which  I 
have     not     yet    recovered.       For    we    were    like 


RING  DOWN  THE  CURTAIN  283 

brothers,  Irving  and  I,  and  I  am  only,  as  you 
know,  two  years  his  junior.  Yet  there  is  Httle 
selfishness,  I  think  and  hope,  in  my  sense  of  loss 
at  this  great  man's  death — cdtait  une  tres  belle 
mort.  He  always  said  he  hoped  to  die  in  harness. 
He  was  a  great  man,  and  not  England  only,  but 
the  whole  world  loses  by  his  death.  He  was  so 
much  more  than  an  actor.  Irving's  life  work  has 
raised  the  tone  not  only  of  the  stage,  but  of  all 
English   art  and   of  the  art  of  the  world. 

"  The  man  was  kindliness  incarnate,  the  manager 
was  the  greatest  master  of  stagecraft  and  of  scenery 
in  dramatic  history,  and  of  such  a  man's  produc- 
tions it  is  almost  impossible  to  speak  in  detail. 
I  have  seen  him,  I  think,  in  every  play  he  ever 
played. 

"  As  a  friend  and  as  a  comrade  Irvinof  was 
incomparable.  I  usually  supped  with  him  after 
the  theatre  when  I  was  in  London,  and  I  remember 
more  especially  the  last  hours  that  I  spent  with  him. 
We  talked  late  into  the  morning  of  old  times  and 
old  experiences,  and  when  I  left  him  I  was  per- 
meated with  the  indefinable  charm  of  the  man — 
a  charm  which  had  for  a  basis  an  unconquerable 
and  illimitable  love  for  his  fellow  men,  seasoned 
with  a  brilliancy  of  sparkling  wit  such  as  no  other 
man  I  know,  or  have  known,  possessed. 

"  I  have  known  brilliant  talkers  ;  I  have  known 
men  who  were  leaders  of  men  (M.  Coquelin  was 
a  close  friend  of  Gambetta),  but  I  have  never 
met  anybody  whose  personal  charm  or  whose 
personal    nobility    of     character     equalled     Henry 


284  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

Irving's.  Everybody  employed  in  his  theatre, 
from  the  leading  actors  and  actresses  to  the 
dressers  and  the  call-boys,  loved  him,  and  one 
word  from  'the  Chief  was  enough  to  smooth  all 
difficulties. 

"  I  could  not  if  I  would  judge  my  old  friend's 
art  impartially.  He  was  perhaps  greater  as  a  stage- 
manager  than  he  was  an  actor,  but  he  was  truly 
great  in  either  and  every  character,  and  greatest 
of  all,  perhaps,  in  private  life.  His  grasp  of  detail 
was  extraordinary,  his  power  of  work  was  wonder- 
ful. I  am  myself  a  worker,  and  I  love  my  pro- 
fession. Henry  Irving  was  wrapped  up  in  his. 
He  lived  for  it.^ 

^  I  have  already  pointed  out  that  the  actor's  temperament  had 
something  akin  to  that  of  Dickens.  How  strange  and  how  Httle 
noted  was  the  forecast  of  impending  death,  given  in  "  Edwin 
Drood":  "Cutting  out  the  gravestones  of  the  next  two  people 
destined  to  die  at  Cloisterham — curious  to  make  a  guess  at  the 
two,  or  say  at  o?ie  of  the  two."  Within  a  few  weeks  he  himself 
was  gone. 


V 


CHAPTER  XX 

CHARACTER    AND    GENERAL    ATTRACTION 

ALL  who  knew  Irving  intimately  must  agree 
that  he  was  one  of  the  most  charming, 
interesting  men  they  ever  met.  He  had  a 
sort  of  simpHcity  and  nciivetd  that  was  exceed- 
ingly attractive  and  engaging.  That  captivating 
smile  of  his  worked  as  a  sort  of  spell.  He 
never  said  anything  in  a  dictatorial  way,  or  "laid 
down  the  law  "  as  it  is  called.  He  usually  put 
the  matter  in  a  doubtful,  interrogatorial  way,  with 
a  "Hey,  hey — what  d'ye  think?  Eh,  now.'*" 
This  was  really  Garrick's  style.  He  was  all  the 
time  a  dreamy,  half-poetical  creature. 

He  was  not  a  regularly  educated  man,  but  he 
had  acquired  a  vast  deal  of  knowledge  in  a  won- 
derful way.  Nothing  was  more  characteristic  than 
his  notion  that  he  knew  French.  He  had  really 
"  picked  up "  a  great  deal  about  French  and 
France  generally,  and  he  had  a  general  instinct 
as  to  all  that  was  French.  He  was  so  intelli- 
ofent  that  he  understood  a  little,  and  carried  it 
off  somehow — but  still,  he  could  not  speak  the 
language.     He  OdCkd  the  knowing  of  French — made 

385 


286  SIR  HENRY   IRVING 

his  few  words  go  far.  It  really  was  highly  dramatic 
to  see  him  carrying  on  a  sort  of  conversation  with 
the  French  actors — all  winning  smiles  and  gestures, 
and  movement,  but  little  language  ;  but  so  clever  was 
he  that  he  always  contrived  to  convey  his  meaning. 

What  a  orenerous  host  he  was  !  how  mao^nificent 
in  his  treatment  of  his  guest  !  Everything  was  of 
the  very  best.  How  often  did  we  hear  his  kindly, 
most  pressing  invitation — "That's  Pommery-Greno 
of '93.  Try  it.  Here  !  Bring  one  of  the — er — mag- 
nums." At  one  of  his  vast  banquets,  when  there  were 
a  couple  of  hundred  folk,  magnum  after  magnum 
of  this  Pommery-Greno  was  emptied.  His  great 
caterer  was  Gunter,  for  the  little  snug  supper  or 
the  grand  banquet.  When  the  debacle  came  there 
was  a  huge  sum  owing  to  these  caterers,  but  they 
were  honourably  and  faithfully  paid  off  within  a 
short  time.  His  ideas  were  really  magnificent  in 
every  direction  ;  he  would  have  nothing  but  of 
the  best — the  very  best.  Even  if  you  went  to 
him  for  one  of  those  midnight  suppers  in  the 
beefsteak-room  in  the  Lyceum,  you  had  an  ex- 
quisite banquet.  There  was  a  poor  creature  who 
had  to  sit  up  till  the  guest  departed  between  two 
and  three  a.m.,  who  had  looked  after  the  banquet 
and  then  saw  his  master  into  the  hansom.  But 
this  turning  of  night  into  day  was  a  tremendous 
strain,  and  it  was  wonderful  how  he  bore  it  so  long. 

That  sagacious  man  of  business  and  shrewd 
observer — his  former  manager  also — Mr.  Henry 
Labouchere,  used  to  try  to  advise  him,  and 
begged   of  him   to   save;    "Again    and    again    I 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  287 

urged  him  to  put  by  a  certain  sum,  so  as  to  be 
independent  under  all  circumstances.  He  would 
reply  :  '  This  is  all  very  well  to  advise,  but  a 
play  at  the  Lyceum  costs  a  great  deal  to  produce  ; 
it  needs  many  full  houses  to  get  it  back,  and  then 
it  has  to  be  spent  in  getting  up  the  next  play.' 
And  I  never  could  convince  him  that  this  was 
not  business.  Had  it  not  been  for  his  old  friend 
Mr.  Bram  Stoker,  he  would  have  been  eaten  out 
of  home  and  theatre  very  speedily." 

"As  a  man,"  he  goes  on  in  his  generous  tribute, 
"  I  greatly  admired  him.  He  was  ever  the  kindest 
and  most  generous  of  human  beings.  Money  burnt 
holes  in  his  pockets.  No  one  who  appealed  to  him 
for  assistance — oh,  and  many  did — ever  appealed 
in  vain.i  He  spent  little  on  himself,  but  much  in 
charity  and  on  hospitality,  and  he  wasted  a  good 
deal  on  superfluity  of  detail  in  his  pieces." 

The  same  friend  gives  one  of  the  most  accurate 
sketches  of  the  actor's  dreamy  fashion  of  taking  his 
pleasures.  Once  at  Twickenham,  about  midnight, 
there  entered  Irving,  who  had  been  dining  at  Rich- 
mond, saying,  "  He  thought  he  would  look  in  on 
him."  He  had  his  hansom.  He  stayed  an  hour 
or  so,  went  off  to  call  on  some  one  at  Teddington, 
and  promised  to  return.  A  friend  staying  with 
Labouchere  was  rather  astonished.  "  Does  he 
know   how    late  it  is?"      "Certainly,"  he  replied, 

*  His  kindly  thought  of  his  friends  was  once  illustrated  when 
he  was  in  Scotland  at  Christmas  time,  when  we,  all  of  his 
intimates,  received  a  jar  of  the  choicest  old  whisky,  despatched 
from  one  of   the  most  famous  distilleries  of  the  North. 


288  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

"  but  I  have  no  doubt  we  shall  have  him  back." 
And  so  he  did  arrive  about  two,  remaining"  till  five, 
then  drivino-  back  to  London.  He  was  fond  of 
these  late,  or  early,  hours.  Such  was  Irving  all 
over.  Who  of  his  friends  cannot  see  him  as  he 
would  enter  in  those  small  hours  with  his  engaging 
smile  and  his  "  Eh  !  eh  !  " 

This  friend  also  discusses  his  professional  merits 
in  his  own  impartial  way.  Irving's  acting  in  Shake- 
speare was  always  sensational,  "  it  depended  on 
something  new  or  striking  in  the  way  of  '  business ' 
or  readings.  Irving  could  impress  an  audience 
with  his  own  personality,  but  he  never  seemed  to 
me  able  to  carry  them  away,  and  consequently 
had  to  depend  on  other  methods  to  capture 
them.  But  he  never  passed  the  line  where  art 
ends  and  gejiius  begins.''  How  true  is  this!  He 
was  not  capable  of  those  natural  outbursts  of  feel- 
ing which  sweep  the  hearer  off  his  feet.  He  had 
no  tempestuousness  in  his  passion,  when  the  words 
tumble  forth  in  confusion — on  top  of  each  other 
as  it  were.  On  the  contrary,  he  grew  slow  and 
yet  slower.  Every  one  knows  that  when  danger 
is  at  hand,  pressing  us  close — the  voice  trembles, 
we  hurry  in  speech — speak  low  for  fear  of  being 
heard.  But  with  Irving — the  greater  the  crisis,  the 
more  his  words  became  like  "  minute  guns."  ^ 

'  In  the  '  Lyons  Mail,'  when  Dubosc  was  rifling  the  letter-bags, 
this  was  shown  conspicuously.  At  such  a  moment  everything 
would  be  excitement  and  hurry — not  a  moment  to  be  lost — and 
this  would  affect  the  spectator.  But  no ;  Irving  was  as  slow  and 
leisurely  and  making  long  speeches. 


"what     a     KMGIIT    we're     HAVINi;!" 

Davtd  CtAUKU'K  :  "  Coiigraf.ulato  you,  Sir  Heiiry,  in  tlic  Naiiio  of  tlic  ProlV'ssiiui ! 

May  you  live  long,  and  ])rosper !  " 

l'"riMii  the  Ciirtoou  by  Liiili^y  Siuubounu;.  By  peviiiission  of  llie  Proprietors  of  "  I'uiiL'h." 


[To  face  imr)e.  28: 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  289 

His  unaffected  modesty  and  total  lack  of  "side," 
even  at  his  greatest  prosperity,  were  extraordinary, 
and  recalled  Dickens,  who  always  seemed  to  me  the 
most  modest  man  of  his  time.  He  took  no  airs.  I 
recollect  him  one  night  at  supper,  when  he  com- 
plained to  me  of  a  stage  carpenter  who  would  care- 
lessly leave  a  pail  in  the  wing,  over  which  the 
actor  would  trip  as  he  impetuously  "came  off."  I 
hear  him  quietly  stating  his  grievance.  "  I  remon- 
strated with  the  man.  He  said  he  couldn't  help  it. 
'But,  my  friend,'  I  said,  'you  should  try.  Would 
it  not  be  a  serious  thing  for  me  if  I  broke  my  leg 
over  your  pail.  I  am  sure  you  would  be  sorry,  but 
that  would  be  no  good  to  me.'  He  went  away 
grumbling."  This  was  said  in  a  gentle  voice,  as 
though  the  man  had  rights  in  the  matter.  Yet  on 
a  word  from  Irving^  he  could  have  "g"Ot  the  sack." 
The  legends  of  Irving's  liberality  are  almost  incred- 
ible. We  hear  of  some  tale  of  distress,  with  ^loo 
or  ^50  sent  off  as  a  solatium.  Any  old  friend  fallen 
on  evil  time  might  rely  on  help.  No  doubt  he  had  a 
satisfaction  in  this  princely  lavishness  :  it  ministered 
to  his  state,  though  this  was  far  from  being  the 
motive.  And  the  variety  of  shapes  his  hospitality 
took  seemed  inexhaustible.  Here  was  a  delightful 
summer  evening.  He  must  gather  all  his  friends  on 
board  a  chartered  Thames  steamer,  and  go  down  to 
Greenwich.  In  those  days  whitebait  dinners  were 
still  in  vogue.  What  an  agreeable,  parti-coloured 
complexion  had  those  feasts — actors,  actresses, 
writers,  lawyers,  musicians — but  all  of  the  Irving 
"set,"   and   therefore    more   or  less  homogeneous. 

20 


290  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

Those  of  his  own  theatrical  household  he  never 
forgot.  Witness  Alexander,  then  his  ideal  "  young 
first,"  with  his  charming,  vivacious  wife.  Then 
came  the  return  at  midnight,  a  delightful  sail  back, 
on  the  river.  I  have  mentioned  how  on  one 
summer  Sunday  morning  a  hansom  cabman 
arrived  express  with  a  letter  from  "  the  Chief," 
inviting  to  a  day  at  Dorking  with  the  French 
Company  of  "  La  Comedie."  What  a  delight- 
ful day  that  was !  We  had  Delaunay,  Mounet 
Sully,  Coquelin,  I  think,  and  another — with  Sir  F. 
Pollock  and  his  son,  Campbell,  the  present  Mr. 
Burdett-Coutts,  and  some  others.  We  had  lunch 
at  one  of  the  old  inns,  and  I  noted  as  we 
walked  about  afterwards  how  careful  was  our 
host  to  seize  any  opportunity  to  increase  his 
popularity.  A  young  man  staying  at  the  hotel 
spoke  to  him,  and  Irving  answered  him  cordially 
and  presently  offered  one  of  his  own  choice 
cigars.  The  Frenchmen  were  deeply  affected  by 
his  goodwill,  and  made  ineffectual  attempts  to  under- 
stand. Sumptuous  as  was  the  lunch,  it  did  not 
suffice,  and  we  returned  to  dine  at  the  Garrick 
in  superior  style.  So  with  the  Meiningen  Per- 
formers. There  were  great  banquets  for  them,  and 
they  were  treated  with  the  same  lavish  hospitality, 
which  was  shared  by  us  all. 

Irving  was  extraordinarily  fortunate  in  his  figure 
and  general  appearance.  It  was  truly  picturesque 
and  quite  remarkable.  It  used  to  be  said  that  there 
were  only  three  or  four  men  whom  people  would 
turn  to  look  after  in  the  street — Mr.  Gladstone,  Car- 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  291 

dinal  Mannins:,  and  Irvingr.  He  was  fortunate  in 
his  spare  figure,  his  dark  wavy  hair,  and  finely  cut 
features.  It  is  curious  that  this  should  not  have 
been  the  original  type,  for  in  the  days  of  his 
early  youth  we  find  him  a  rather  conventional- 
looking  young  man  with  a  full  moustache.  It  is 
clear  that  he  developed  the  later  style  by  a  sort  of 
intellectual  effort,  by  earnestly  concentrating  his 
thoughts  on  characters,  feelings,  passions,  &c.  He 
wore  his  features  down  and  refined  them  :  and  so 
his  face  acquired  a  spiritual  look.  There  was  the 
fine  forehead,  well-cut  nose,  and  beautifully  ex- 
pressive mouth.  He  added  a  slightly  eccentric 
style  of  dress,  a  tall,  broad-brimmed  hat,  a  low 
collar,  and  a  curiously  cut  coat,  with  "  flowing " 
collar  and  skirt.  In  this  he  suggested  Dickens. 
His  voice — his  natural  voice — was  low,  sweet,  and 
winning,  but  his  walk  in  private,  as  on  the  stage, 
was  strao"Q-linQf  and  ungraceful.  Yet  these  oddities 
were  interesting,  and  meant  absence  of  affectation, 
and  that  he  was  careless  about  such  matters.  He 
was,  indeed,  a  most  attractive  man,  and  had  he  been 
single  would  certainly  have  captivated  some  dame 
of  high  degree. 

With  such  attractions  it  is  a  surprise  that  no 
fitting  portrait  has  been  left  of  the  actor.  Millais, 
Edwin  Long,  and  Whistler  have  been  the  most 
conspicuous  artists  to  whom  he  sat.  Millais'  effort 
is  a  side  face  of  a  sketchy  sort,  the  colouring  poor, 
and  the  likeness  not  very  striking ;  Long  shows 
him  as  Hamlet,  and  is  an  interesting  picture ; 
Whistler's  is  a  shadowy  thing  in  his  own   special 


292  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

style,  and  I  well  remember  the  ridicule  with  which 
it  was  greeted.  It  brought  a  high  price  at  the  sale. 
The  sculptors  have  not  been  more  successful. 
Onslow  Ford's  sitting  figure  of  him  as  Hamlet  is 
rather  ungainly  in  attitude,  and  has  little  romance  or 
feeling.  There  is  an  early  bust  by  Joseph,  I  think — 
also  prosaic  enough — casts  of  which  he  used  to  give 
his  friends.  And  there  is  a  statuette  of  him  as 
Mathias  in  '  The  Bells.'  The  finest,  most  thought- 
ful and  expressive  reproduction  of  his  face  was 
assuredly  the  Cameron  photograph  of  him  as 
Becket,  the  frontispiece  of  this  volume.  His  many 
admirers  will  be  glad  to  have  it. 

Not  many  weeks  after  the  actor's  death,  his 
numerous  effects,  curios,  and  general  collections 
were  "brought  to  the  hammer"  at  Christie's.  It 
was  quite  a  gala  time  and  caused  some  excitement. 
The  fashionable  dowagers  with  their  daughters 
crowded  into  the  rooms,  certainly  not  with  inten- 
tion of  purchase.  Que  font  Us  dans  ce  galere  ? 
No  one  could  answer  that.  It  was  the  same  at  the 
time  of  Dickens'  sale,  when  such  extravagant  prices 
were  realised.  Never  was  there  such  a  hetero- 
geneous collection  as  was  now  exhibited.  It 
seemed  like  walking  through  the  rooms  of  some 
old  curiosity  shop,  for  there  were  pictures,  armour, 
china,  bronzes,  books,  figures,  ornaments.  The 
effect,  however,  was  not  unpleasing.  The  actor 
seems  to  have  followed  his  fancy  and  purchased 
whatever  pleased  him  at  the  time.  The  attraction 
of  the  whole  was  the  portrait  of  himself  as  Philip,  by 
Whistler,  and  that  gaudy  presentment  of  Miss  Terry, 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  293 

by  Sargent,  each  fetching  a  large  sum.  Among 
the  books  the  most  interesting  were  the  "  Gran- 
gerised"  copies  of  memoirs,  notably  that  of  Dickens's 
life,  enriched  with  rare  portraits,  autographs,  letters, 
&c.^  The  money  received  for  the  whole  was  close 
on  ;^  1 9,000. 

Irvinof  was  much  honoured  in  "Clubland."  He  was 
a  member  of  four  distinguished  clubs — the  Reform, 
the  Garrick,  the  Athenaeum,  and  the  Marlborough. 
Rarely  has  an  actor  been  so  honoured.  At  the 
Garrick  he  was  a  power.  There  he  received  his 
friends  to  dinner  and  supper,  and  there  he  knew 
every  one.  To  the  Athenaeum  he  was  elected  in 
its  complimentary  way,  viz.,  under  Rule  2,  and  by 
choice  of  the  committee.  It  may  be  doubted,  how- 
ever, whether  he  would  have  been  admitted  within 
its  august  portals  by  the  ordinary  ballot.  This  we 
might  forecast  from  the  fate  of  another  distinguished 
player,  who  was  later  excluded  by  a  rather  un- 
handsome combination.  The  Marlborough  was 
truly  "select,"  being  at  the  time  recognised  as  the 
Prince  of  Wales's  own  club,  and  who  appeared  to 
nominate  its  members. 

Irvinsf  had  ever  a  sort  of  romantic  interest  in 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church  and  its  ceremonial 
orandeur.  I  often  think  that  he  fancied  he  was 
somehow    affiliated    to    it,    from    having    so    often 

'  The  fluctuations  of  taste  and  fashion  are  shown  by  the  loss 
of  interest  in  this  Grangerising  process.  For  owing  to  the  rise  in 
the  price  of  prints,  portraits,  and  letters,  it  is  found  more  profitable 
to  "  break  up  "  these  collections,  made  at  such  cost  and  trouble, 
and  sell  the  component  items  separately, 


294  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

fig-ured  as  one  of  its  ecclesiastics  on  the  stage. 
Cardinals,  bishops,  priests,  religious  processions, 
rites,  altars,  sanctuaries — all  these  he  was  perfecdy 
familiar  with,  and  he  had  "made  up"  by  the  most 
careful  inquiries  all  details  that  were  necessary. 
It  was  said  that  he  obtained  his  Cardinal's  robes 
through  a  Catholic  house  of  business,  and  cer- 
tain of  the  faith  were  said  to  have  advised  him 
in  that  department.  At  all  events,  there  was  a 
tenderness  in  his  bearing  towards  the  Church. 
He  knew  the  two  Cardinals  Manning  and  Vaughan, 
and  had  many  Catholic  friends.  On  the  first 
performance  of  '  Becket  '  he,  as  usual,  gave 
his  friends  and  acquaintances  a  handsome  banquet 
on  the  stage.  We  remained  on  and  on  until 
it  came  to  nigh  two  in  the  morning.  I  well 
remember  his  coming  down  to  the  door  in  his 
monastic  robes  and  tonsure,  which  he  had  worn 
through  the  supper.  He  was  dreamily  placid, 
delighted  with  every  one  and  with  himself — he 
seemed  to  be  half  Irving,  half  the  monk  :  for  as  I 
passed  into  the  street,  wishing  him  good-night,  he 
wrung  my  hand  slowly  and  warmly,  uttering  at  the 
same  time  a  fervent  benediction:  "  God  bless  you! 
God  bless  you  ! "  For  a  second  he  seemed  to  be  in 
real  orders,  or  a  sort  of  orders.  Cardinal  Vaughan 
invited  him  to  give  a  reading  at  Archbishop's 
House,  for  his  schools.  And  the  actor  agreed 
cordially  :  he  came  and  read  '  Macbeth '  with  great 
spirit  to  a  vast  number  of  priests,  who  would 
otherwise  never  have  seen  or  heard  him.  One  of 
the  school  girls  came    forward   and  prattled   some 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  295 

complimentary  lines,  and  it  was  delightful  to  see 
the  actor  transformed  into  the  good  Vicar  of 
Wakefield  and  smiling  encouragingly  on  the  child. 

The  question  has  been  often  discussed :  Was 
Irving's  stage  system  good  ?  Was  the  Lyceum 
school  conducive  to  the  general  effect  ?  This 
really  raises  the  question  of  actor-managership, 
which  is  a  sort  of  amiable  despotism.  For  it  is 
admitted  that  any  performer  who  attempts  to  take 
full  scope  and  license  would  interfere  with  the  ruler. 
Hence  Irving's  rigidity,  compelling  all  to  be  subor- 
dinate :  to  indulge  in  no  strong  or  distracting  efforts. 
It  was  almost  amusingf  to  see  how  all  this  was 
unconsciously  felt  and  quietly  enforced. 

And  what  has  been  the  effect  on  the  stage  of 
this  modern  institution  of  actor-manager  ?  In  truth, 
Irvinor  miwht  be  considered  the  first  and  most 
successful.  Of  course,  there  had  been  actors  long 
before  him  who  were  also  manaofers,  such  as 
Garrick,  Macready,  and  Phelps.  But  these  were 
not  manager-actors  in  the  modern  sense.  Garrick, 
Macready,  and  Phelps  were  all  members  of  a 
company,  and  allowed  members  of  the  company  to 
be  as  prominent  as  themselves.  The  play  was 
dominant.  Play  succeeded  play  in  the  course 
of  the  week,  so  that  every  one's  turn  came 
round.  Charles  Kean  and  his  wife,  indeed,  rather 
engrossed  the  whole  attraction  of  a  scene,  and 
may  be  said  to  have  been  precursors  of  Irving 
and  Miss  Terry.  This  modern  system  is  founded, 
strangely  enough,  on  a  liking  for  the  person  and 
character   of    a   leading    player.     Audiences   grow 


296  SIR   HENRY  IRVING 

to  love  their  player  ;  they  like  to  see  him  ;  they 
relish  his  ways,  tones,  defects  even.  They  go  to  see 
him,  not  his  play  or  his  "  show."  Hence  he 
naturally  thinks  that  the  more  he  can  give  of 
himself  to  the  exclusion  of  disturbing  elements 
the  better.  At  another  person's  theatre,  he  must 
take  his  place  in  the  ranks  ;  for  others  have  their 
claims.  He  is  thus  gradually  encouraged  to  seek 
an  exclusive  domain  of  his  own,  where  he  can  rule 
and  be  the  central  figure.  Irving  set  the  example 
for  this  system,  which  he  carried  on  successfully  for 
twenty  years.  His  example  was  duly  followed  by 
every  successful  performer,  and  the  motto,  "  One 
man,  one  theatre,"  has  become  "your  only  wear." 
Alexander,  Tree,  Maude,  Seymour  Hicks,  Wynd- 
ham,  Terry,  Bourchier,  and  others  all  represent  the 
system  in  full  force.  It  is  obvious  that  it  is  hardly 
a  healthy  one  for  the  stage,  as  the  result  of 
Irving's  twenty  years'  experiment  has  shown.  It 
has  indirectly  destroyed  the  general  taste  for  "  the 
play."  It  has  all  but  extinguished  the  dramatist, 
who  ought  to  have  a  company  to  write  for,  not  a 
single  actor  or  a  "show."  Curiously  enough,  Irving 
was  to  exemplify  this  state  of  things,  for  when  he 
came  to  cast  about  for  original  plays  he  found  none 
that  would  suit  him  or  his  conditions.  There  is  but 
little  dramatic  interest  in  these  "  one-man  "  parts  ; 
and  thus  it  came  about  that  after  this  long  series  of 
years  the  public  showed  signs  of  fatigue,  if  not 
of  indifference.  Of  course,  as  might  be  expected, 
for  their  own  credit  audiences  will  cling  to  their 
pld  favourite,   but  still  the  old  idolatrous  devotion 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  297 

is  a  thing  of  the  past.  And  now,  as  we  look 
round,  what  do  we  find  as  the  result  of  the  system  ? 
The  stage  mainly  in  possession,  not  of  the  drama, 
but  of  showmen  and  shows  ! — for  musical  comedy, 
we  are  told,  is  "  the  natural  expression  of  English 
taste."  There  are  a  few  sketchy  plays  mainly 
furnished  by  a  writer  of  foreign  extraction,  but 
these  possess  what  attraction  they  have,  not 
owing  to  the  manager-actor,  but  to  an  equal 
distribution  of  interest  among  the  characters. 
In  short,  then,  two  elements — the  "  one-man  " 
play  and  the  exhibition  of  shows — must  destroy 
all  interest  in  the  purer  intellectual  delight 
of  real  drama.  In  fact,  as  Mr.  Hare  said  recently 
with  excusable  exaggeration,  "  By  and  by  there 
will  be  no  '  play '  at  all."  No  one  could  say 
that  this  was  from  selfishness  or  jealousy — it  was 
the  system.  It  must  disturb  the  balance.  There 
was  one  great  central  force  and  attraction,  all  the 
others  were  softened  down  and  graduated.  Thus 
there  was  a  harmonious  whole.  ^ 

But  would  we  find  further  proof  of  the  failure  of 
this  actor-manager  principle  we  have  only  to  con- 
sider the   case   of   Irvino;   himself.     No   one   ever 

'  Once,  and  once  only,  I  saw  Irving  actually  "  played  down  " 
almost  to  extinction  by  one  of  his  own  comrades,  and  in  his  own 
theatre.  It  was  at  a  performance  of  '  Robert  Macaire '  for  a 
charity,  and  Toole  had  good  naturedly  volunteered  for  Jacques 
Strop.  Never  was  there  such  an  exhibition.  Poor  Macaire 
could  not  get  in  a  word.  Toole  completely  overpowered  him, 
"gagging"  eternally,  inventing  "business,"  in  fact  dominating 
the  whole  to  roars  of  laughter.  Irving  had  virtually  to  look  on. 
Yet  this  was  all  done  with  the  best  intentions, 


298  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

received  more  money  from  the  public  ;  in  one 
year,  and  in  perhaps  more,  he  "  took  at  the  doors  " 
close  on  ^100,000.  His  yearly  profit  must  have 
been  always  from  ;^8,ooo  to  ^10,000.  Yet  at  his 
death  he  left  nothing.  Nothing  saved  or  put  by. 
True,  his  curios  and  relics  brought  nigh  ^19,000 
owing  to  the  factitious  enthusiasm  of  the  moment. 
Here  was  the  result  of  actor-management ;  it  was  so 
with  Charles  Kean,  and  will  be  so  with  many  who 
are  now  actor-managing.  The  truth  is,  the  actor 
and  the  manager  are  distinct  professions,  and 
cannot  be  combined.  They  are  both  most  difficult 
professions,  requiring  skill,  instinct,  and  training. 
The  actor-manager  really  does  not  manage,  for 
management  means  the  controlling  of  a  large 
corps  of  clever  persons,  with  study  of  their  special 
gifts  with  a  view  to  setting  them  out  profitably,  and 
to  the  best  advantage.  The  actor  has  none  of  this 
class  to  attend  to,  nothing  but  to  set  off  his  own 
personal  advantages  in  the  best  way,  and  to  make 
the  most  of  his  own  popularity.  When  this 
popularity  begins  to  wane  his  fortunes  wane  also. 
Irving,  I  noticed,  was  never  quite  at  home  in 
other  theatres  than  his  own,  as  when  he  played 
in  a  grand  combination  version  of  '  The  School 
for  Scandal.'  The  best  and  choicest  of  the  profes- 
sion had  volunteered  even  for  the  smallest  parts. 
But  Irving  had  Joseph.  "  How  fine,"  said  every 
one,  "he  will  be.  Suit  him  down  to  the  orround ! 
Fancy  the  screen  scene ! "  Never  was  there  a 
greater  disappointment ;  it  was  really  the  worst 
Joseph  one  had  ever    seen.     He    was   perpetually 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  299 

changing  his  legs,  jumping  up  and  down.  Half 
he  said  was  scarcely  heard  ;  it  was  at  Old  Drury, 
but  it  was  clear  to  all  that  he  had  no  conception 
of  the  part.  He  could  only  give  it  his  own  habitual 
resources  ;  strange  jerks,  queer  tones  and  general 
restlessness. 

Still,  it  must  be  said,  a  vast  deal  has  been  done 
for  Shakespeare  at  the  Lyceum.  What  a  long 
series,  and  how  splendidly  presented  !  What  an 
education  during  twenty  years  !  Nothing  can  be 
so  true,  and  we  are  under  infinite  obligations  to 
him.  Even  granting  that  the  system  of  illustration 
is  the  best,  if  persisted  in,  it  must  lead  to 
catastrophe.  For  it  is  too  costly  and  over- 
whelming. Again,  the  list  of  performing  Shake- 
spearian plays  is  not  very  long.  Yet  it  would  seem 
almost  impossible  to  get  the  public  to  accept  any 
beyond  those  they  are  well  accustomed  to.  A 
strange  phenomenon  surely  !  The  more  favoured 
are  '  Hamlet,'  '  Macbeth,'  '  As  You  Like  It,'  '  Henry 
VHL,'  'Much  Ado  About  Nothing,' 'Henry IV.' and 
'  Henry  V.,' '  Midsummer's  Night  Dream,'  '  Othello,' 
*  Richard  III.'  and  one  or  two  more.  '  Richard  II.,' 
'Twelfth  Night,'  and  '  Cymbeline  '  had  been  at- 
tempted by  Irving,  but  with  little  success.  One 
often  wished  that  he  had  brought  forward  '  The 
Tempest,'  which  many  conceived  would  have 
suited  him  and  his  theatre  admirably  ;  he  would 
have  declaimed  Prospero  in  a  noble,  stately  fashion, 
but  he  shrank  from  the  duller  and  heavier  moments. 
I  have  already  insisted  that  the  '  Twelfth  Night' 
was  one  of  his  most  beautiful  and  poetical  efforts : 


300  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

the  scenery  and  his  own  acting  were  all  but 
perfect.  But  t'would  not  do,  it  was  coldly  if  not 
hostilely  received. 

Irvinof  will  be  recollected  not  so  much  for  his 
acting  as  for  these  Shakespearian  revivals.  Not 
that  all  can  be  considered  to  have  been  in  the  best 
and  most  complete  taste  ;  indeed  it  may  be  that  in  a 
generation  or  two  his  revivals  will  be  classed  with 
those  of  Macready  and  the  Charles  Keans,  which 
were  just  as  much  extolled.  Mr.  Tree  has  long 
since  entered  the  field  as  a  competing  revivalist,  and 
has  gone  "one  better,"  and  is  more  "  up  to  date." 
Irving's  changes  and  illustration  were  often  matters 
of  critical  taste.  But  he  ever  showed  a  reverent 
respect  for  his  art.  Mr.  Tree's  are  guided  by 
no  principle  but  that  of  dealing  with  the  bard  as 
though  be  had  lived  in  our  day,  and  of  making  his 
humorous  characters  funny  on  modern  lines.  ^ 

The  absurdity  of  the  modern  system  of  decorat- 
ing Shakespeare,  or  piling  on  him  ornaments,  can 
be  shown  by  one  specimen  —  the  burial  scene  of 
Ophelia.  It  will  serve  as  a  typical  instance.  Every 
manager  at  once  says,  "  Here  we  must  have 
a  procession — king,  queen,  priests,  censers,  lights, 
copes,  &c.,  and  solemn  music  from  the  organ  in  an 

'  Thus  Bottom  was  fashioned  into  a  sort  of  London  clown. 
The  part  was  amplified  and  extended  for  the  benefit  of  the 
manager,  who  played  it,  so  that  it  became  the  chief  character  of 
the  play.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  this  adapter  gave  us,  beyond 
doubt,  the  finest  representation  of 'Julius  Caesar'  that  it  was  possible 
to  imagine.  Antony's  speech,  and  the  whole  scene  of  the  crowds, 
&c,,  were  really  unsurpassable.     O  sic  omties ! 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  301 

adjoining  church."  All  wrong,  for  Ophelia  was 
debarred  from  rites,  and  was  buried  as  a  suicide — 
a  single  priest  officiating,  with  no  procession,  I 
myself  doubt  whether  any  great  effect  is  produced 
by  these  processions,  battles,  armies,  combats  and 
such  shows.  They  are  never  convincing.  It  is 
clear  to  the  spectator  that  the  "super"  soldiers 
tumble  down  of  their  own  motion,  so  as  "  to  make 
believe  "  that  they  are  killed.  I  was  always  rather 
astonished  that  Irving  did  not  think  out  some 
new  and  original  method  of  illustration,  based  on 
a  profound  study  of  the  bard,  and  search  out  what 
is  the  minimum,  not  the  maximum,  of  illustration. 
But  he  really  favoured  the  old  stagey  and  stale 
methods.  Often  did  I  all  but  implore  him  to 
discard  the  cumbrous  and  expensive  "built-up" 
structures  and  revert  to  the  "  cloths,"  and  he  used 
to  promise ;  or  he  would  turn  it  aside  with  a 
pleasant  smile.  "Cloths"  painted  artistically,  with 
vivid  colour,  have  an  exceeding  dramatic  effect. 
I  am  afraid  his  taste  in  many  directions  was  a 
little  corrupt. 

It  grew  to  be  almost  a  custom  that  I  had  to 
collect  for  him  for  the  particular  play  that  was  being 
got  up,  all  the  points,  effects,  readings  of  great 
actors,  bits  of  emphasis,  "  business,"  &c.,  recorded 
in  the  scattered  "  Memoirs."  He  found  this  very 
useful.  I  thus  found  for  him  the  criticisms  on  Le 
Maitre  in  '  Robert  Macaire.'  I  even  manufactured 
a  sort  of  refrain  of  a  sons:  about  "  toilinor  and 
moiling,"  which  he  used  to  "hum"  as  he  lounged 
about  in  his  part. 


302  SIR  HENRY  IRVING 

As  a  training  school  for  acting,  and  particularly 
for  elocution,  emotional  emphasis  and  the  rest,  it 
must  be  said  Irving's  teaching  and  example  were 
unsatisfactory.  This  was  specially  shown  in  his 
Shakespearian  productions,  and  was  the  result  of 
the  manager's  rigid,  well-thought  out  system  of 
effacing,  as  it  were,  his  followers.  They  were 
to  be  figures — graceful,  interesting  figures — but 
without  prominence.  They  seemed  to  be  allowed 
to  recite  their  beautiful  lines  in  a  sort  of  lisfht, 
chattering  style,  as  young  men  of  our  day  would 
talk.  The  verses  were  turned  into  running  prose, 
and  the  pace  was  so  fast  and  the  utterance  so 
indistinct,  that  it  was  difficult  to  gather  the  mean- 
ing. All  had  the  same  methods  and  seemed 
indistinguishable  one  from  the  other.  There  was 
nothing  illiberal  in  this  ;  as  I  have  said  it  was  his 
system.  The  two  principals  were  the  real  actors ; 
on  them  was  the  whole  attention  to  be  concen- 
trated, undivided  and  undistracted. 

I  think  it  is  within  the  experience  of  many,  that 
at  dinner  parties  in  those  days,  Irving  usually 
came  in  for  much  good-natured  attack.  "  I  hate 
him,  he  is  quite  ridiculous,"  would  the  ladies  say. 
The  general  voice,  without  exception,  was  for  the 
enchanting  and  captivating  Ellen,  then  in  her 
prime,  ever  engaging  and  winsome.  They  *'  grew 
wanton  in  her  praise."  The  truth  was,  Irving  in 
those  days  preached  much.  When  launched  on 
a  long  verified  soliloquy  he  fell  into  a  lugubrious 
and  most  monotonous  chant  which,  as  in  the  case 
of  Peter  Magnus,  "amused  his  friends  very  much." 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION  303 

The  effect  on  persons  who  had  never  seen  him 
before  was  often  surprising,  the  extraordinary  tones 
emitted  by  the  actor  at  moments  of  agitation  being 
truly  unique  and  astonishing.  When  he  would 
express  passionate  grief,  it  took  the  shape  of 
strange  croonings,  yelpings,  and  animal  noises. 
All  his  pronunciations  such  as  "Gud"  for  God, 
"  wammin "  for  "women"  became  intensified. 
Where,  or  why,  or  how  he  engendered  this  ex- 
pression of  emotion  it  is  hard  to  say.  It  clung 
to  him  to  the  last,  and  his  more  fanatical  adherents 
thought  it  all  very  beautiful.  And  the  same  emotion 
produced  that  queer,  limping  gait.  He  revelled  in 
these  long  speeches,  hence  the  secret  of  his  fondness 
for  Wills,  who  knew  how  to  supply  him. 

Most  of  Irving's  gifts  were  exterior.  He  had 
true  glamour,  a  gracious  presence,  a  romantic 
bearing,  but  little  real  passion,  though  he  could 
simulate  it  in  a  sort  of  effective  way.  His  curious 
tones  in  grief  or  anger  were  generally  inappro- 
priate and  often  opposed  to  the  sense  of  the  words  ; 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  suggested  a  lack  of 
training  and  education.  And  yet  it  was  not  always 
so.  His  early  efforts  were  admirably  finished, 
correct  in  style,  his  elocution  good.  I  have  men- 
tioned the  extraordinary  deterioration  of  his  playing 
in  '  The  Two  Roses,'  his  making  a  complete  and 
rough  caricature  of  what  was  formerly  the  highest 
and  sincerest  bit  of  comedy.  No  doubt  the 
absence  of  control,  the  want  of  some  one  to  advise 
and  tell  him  the  truth,  the  abundant  compliments 
and  flatteries  that  pursued  him  only  confirmed  him 


304  SIR   HENRY   IRVING 

in  his  ways,  and  could  not  encourage  correction  or 
improvement. 

Again,  it  was  extraordinary  that  one  who  gave 
certain  characters  so  perfectly,  should  have  done 
others  so  badly  and  poorly.  What  could  have 
been  more  natural,  easy  and  appealing,  than 
his  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  so  genuinely  affecting  and 
affectionate,  so  full  of  little  engaging  ways!  It 
was,  as  I  have  always  said,  a  perfect  performance. 
He  looked  the  part  admirably.  His  Shylock,  also, 
would  pass  anywhere,  and  in  any  theatre,  as  a 
really  finished  and  finely  interpreted  character. 
Louis  XI.  also  was  remarkable,  though  the 
hypocrisy  was  a  little  too  marked  and  panto- 
mimic. 

It  is  sad  that  in  almost  the  last  words  of  this 
perhaps  too  partial  account  I  should  record  that, 
though  some  months  have  elapsed  since  his  death, 
the  great  actor's  name  is  scarcely  mentioned.  He 
seems,  indeed,  forgotten.  For  many  a  "  cheap " 
celebrity,  there  are  committees  and  subscriptions 
and  memorials  and  statues  ;  but  nothing  of  the 
kind  has  been  even  suggested. 

Looking  back  across  the  flood  of  criticism  that 
since  the  actor's  death  has  burst  through  the 
fiood-gates,  and  weighing  the  absurd  raptures — 
the  unkind — the  praises  of  the  wrong  thing,  the 
appreciation  that  seems  fairest  and  most  just  was 
the  one  in  the  Times  the  morning  after  his 
death.  Nothing  can  be  more  temperate,  more 
judicious. 

Such  was  Henry  Irving,  the  actor  and  the  man. 


CHARACTER  AND  GENERAL  ATTRACTION   305 

An  actor  of  high  and  unusual  pretension,  interesting 
and  romantic,  while  he  must  be  counted  a  reformer 
of  the  stage  ;  a  man  of  a  most  attractive  kind,  of 
winning  and  engaging  character. 


21 


INDEX 


Abbey,  Mr,,  the  American  man- 
ager, 145,  152,  187 

A' Beckett,  Arthur,  37 

Aberdeen,  Earl  of,  281 

Addison,  Joseph,  34 

Adelphi,  The,  119,  207 

Adrastus  in  '  Ion,'  4 

Advertiser,  37 

Ai'de,  Hamilton,  59 

Albery,  42,  49 

Alexander,  George,  231,  243,  290, 
296;  in  'Faust,'  174;  in  'The 
Amber  Heart,'  192 ;  introduc- 
tion to  Irving,  135 

Alhambra,  The,  209 

'  Alice  Sit-by-the-Fire,'  259 

Alma  Tadema,  R.A.,  124,210,235, 
236 

'Amber  Heart,  The,'  by  Calmour, 
188,  192 

American  tours,  Irving's,  155-160, 
187,264,  273,275,277 

Amersfoot  in  'The  Loan  of  a 
Lover,'  15 

'  L'Ami  Fritz,'  50 

Andrew  Aguecheek,  Sir,  162 

Andrews,  92 

Andrews,  Dr.  Thomas  H.,  157 

'  Annibal,'  by  Regnier,  136 

Antigone,  no 

Antoine,  267 


Antonio  in  '  The  Merchant  of 
Venice,'  103,  105,  107 

Antony  in  'Julius  Cajsar,'  298 

Archbishop's  House,  294 

Archer,  92 

Archer,  William,  71 

Ariel,  84 

Arnold,  Mr.,  48 

Arthur  in  '  King  John,'  85 

"  Art  of  Acting,  The,"  170,  171 

"Art  of  Acting,  The,"  by  Fitz- 
gerald, 36 

Ashbourne,  Lord,  70 

Ashton  in  '  Ravenswood,'  211, 
212 

Astley's  Theatre,  86 

'  As  You  Like  It,'  297 

Athenaeum,  The,  Manchester,  29 

Athenaeum  Club,  293 

Afhenceum,  The,  35 

Auerbach's  Cellar,  176 

Austin,  Alfred,  188 

Avenue  Theatre,  192 

B 

Baillet,  Georges,  244 
Bainbridge,  Captain,  25 
Baird,  Dorothea,  as  Trilby,  40 
Bancroft,  Sir  Squire,  197,  243 
Banquo's  Ghost,  203,  205 
Bar  nay,  195 
Barrie,  J.  M.,  259 


307 


308 


INDEX 


Bartet,  244 

Bartlett,  Mr.  (see  Burdett-Coutts, 

Mr.) 
Bashford,  243 
Bateman,  Isabel,  47, 51,  58,  62,  80  ; 

as  Ophelia,  64  ;  as  the  Queen  in 

'  Charles  I.,'  56 
Bateman,  Miss,  80 ;  as  Lady  Mac- 
beth, 66,  67  ;  as  Leah,  46 
Bateman,  Mr.,  "the  Colonel,"  46, 

47.  48,  50.  5i>  54.  57.  64,  65,  75, 

80,  104 
Bateman,  Mrs.,  47 ;  as  manageress 

of  the  Lyceum,  64,  65, 69, 77,  79, 

80,87 
Beaconsfield,  Lord,  37,  142 
Beatrice,  147,  148,  150,  259 
Beatty- Kingston,  195 
Beazely,  82 
'Becket,'  123,   217,  221,  224,  225, 

227,  228,  229,  237,  258,  265,  274, 

275.  277.  278,  281,  292,  294 
Beefsteak-room,   The,     118,    177, 

195 
Behenna,  Sarah  (Mrs.  Brodribb), 

1,7.8 
Belford,  197 
Bellario    in    'The    Merchant     of 

Venice,'  105 
'  Bellows-mender,  The,'  99 
'  Belle's  Stratagem,  The,'  34,  126, 

133 
'  Bells,  The,' 48,  50-54,72,  116,  131, 

155,  186,  191,  210,  228,  258,  265, 

273,  274,  277 
Belmore,    George,    56,     279 ;     as 

Cromwell,  58 
Benedick,  147,  148,  150 
Benedict,  Sir  Julius,  91,  141 
Benson  Company,  The,  219 
Bentley,  80 
Bernhardt,   Sarah,  145,    180,   268, 

282  ;  as  Hamlet,  63  ;  in  '  Phedre,' 

61 
'  Bill  Sikes,'  39,  210 


'  Birthplace  of  Podgers,  The,'  by 

Hollingshead,  131 
Bishop,    92 ;    as   Mr.    Ashton    in 

'  Ravenswood,'  211 
Black,  William,  188 
'  Black-Eyed  Susan,'  54 
Blaine,  157 
Blanchard,  E.  L.,  37 
Blanche  Haye  in  'Ours,  86 
Booth,  Edwin,  22,   125,   126,  127, 

131.  132  ;    as  lago,  129,  130  ;  as 

Othello,  128 
'  Boots  at  the  Swan,'  6 
Boswell,  26 

Bottom  the  Weaver,  144,  298 
Boucicault,  Dion,  22,  30,  31,  32,33, 

37.  38,  40 
Bourchier,  Arthur,  108,  294 
"  Boz,"  76,  210 
"  Boz  "  Club,  273 
Bradford,   Midland    Hotel,    279  ; 

Theatre  Royal,  277-278 
Brereton,  Austin,  3 
Brewster,  Attorney-General,  158 
Brewster,     Corporal,     237,     238, 

274 
'  Bride  of  Lammermoor,'  209 
Bright,  Mr.  John,  168,  169 
Britannic,  The,  155 
Broderick,  Waite,  10 
Brodribb,  John  Henry  {see  Irving, 

Sir  Henry) 
Brooke,  G.  V.,  22 
Brooksbanks,  Mrs.,  151 
Brough,  39,  243 
Brown,  Ford  Madox,  235 
Browne,  Hablot,  49 
Browning,  Robert,  i88,  200 
Brunt,  Mr,,  10 
Buckingham,  214,  219 
Buckingham,  Leicester,  37 
Buckstone,  47,  133 
Burchell  in  '  Olivia,'  92 
Burdett-Coutts,  Baroness,  72,  82, 

93.99 


INDEX 


309 


Burdett-Coutts,  Mr.,  82,  290 

Burgin,  Mr.,  225 

Burnand,  F.  C,  50 

Burne-Jones,  Sir  E.,  234,  235,  236 

Butler,  Bishop,  183 

Byron,  Henry,  102,  188 

'  Bygones,'  by  Pinero,  237 


Cabdrivers'   Benevolent    Associa- 
tion, 250 
Caleb  Decie  ift  '  The  Two  Roses,' 

44,  134 
Calmour,  Mr.,  188,  191,  209 

Calvert,  Charles,  23,  25 

Cambridge  University,  U.S.A.,  171 

Cameron  photographs,  292 

Camma  in  '  The  Cup,'  122 

Carden,  Sir  R.,  68 

Carlyle,  Robert,  116,267 

Carr,  Comyns,  233,  263,  264 

Carr,  Mrs.  Comyns,  201 

Castle,  Egerton,  196 

'  Catherine  and  Fetruchio,'  39 

Celeste,  Madame,  13 

Chambers,  Mr.,  31,  32 

Champaigne,  Philippe  de,  184 

'  Charles  I.,'  53,  54,  55,  56,  57,  58, 

75,  156,  237 
Chateau-Renaud  in  'The  Corsican 

Brothers,'  115,  118 
Chevenix  in  '  Uncle  Dick's   Dar- 
ling,' 36,  41 
'  Chief,     The '     (see    Irving,     Sir 

Henry) 
Childs,  Mr.,  of  New  York,  194 
Chippendale,  Mr.,  as  Polonius,  62, 

63  ;  presents  Irving  with  Kean's 

sword,  72 
Chippendale,  Mrs.,  92 
Christie's,  292 
Church  of  England  Temperance 

Society,  247 
Cibber,  Colley,  66 


Clara  Douglas  in  '  Money,'  86 

Claretic,  Jules,  179,  244  ;  appre- 
ciation of  Irving,  183-185 

Clarke,  Campbell,  180 

Clarke,  Sir  Edward,  4 

Clarke,  Hamilton,  90,  91,  114,  220 

Claude  Melnotte  in  '  The  Lady  of 
Lyons,'  19,  21,98 

'  Claudian,'  231 

Clayton,  John,  56 ;   as  Cromwell, 

57 
Clement  Street  Opera  House,  157 

Cleomenes,  10 

Cloisterham,  284 

Coleridge,  Lord,  153,  154,  241 

Coleridge,  Miss,  92 

Coleridge,  Stephen,  241 

Collins,  Wilkie,  188 

Colman,  100 

Comedie        Frangaise       (French 

Comedy),    179,    180,    181,    185, 

243,  244,  281,  282,  290 
Commines,  184 
Conquest,  G.,  243 
Conway,  Mr.,  in  '  Faust,'  174 
Cook,  Dutton,  86 
Coquelin  aine,    52,    180,  181,  182, 

183,  185,  186,282,  283,  284,  290 
Coquelin  cadet,  244 
Cordelia,  84,  222 
'  Coriolanus,'  210,  235,  266,  270 
Cork,  The  Mayor  and  Corporation 

oi,  IS5 
'Corsican  Brothers, The,'  115,  118, 

123,  132,  237 
Court  Theatre,  86,  87,  166 
Craig,  Gordon,  235,  258 
Cramp,  Charles  E.,  157 
Craven,  Hawes,  88,  89,  126,   172, 

220 
Creswick,  3,  19 
Cromwell,  57 
Crosby  Hall,  20,  21 
Croydon  Lecture  Hall,  84 
Crummies,  273  ;  Mrs.,  47 


310 


INDEX 


'Cup,    The/    by  Tennyson,  121, 

123,  126,  132,  223 
'  Cupid's  Messenger,'  191,  192 
Curran,  3 

Cushman,  Charlotte,  13 
'  CymbeHne,'  255,  297 

D 

Dabbs,  Dr.,  229 

Daily  Mail,  277,  278 

Daily  News,  37,  86 

Daily  Telegraph,  37,  180 

'  Daisy's  Escape,'  by  Pinero,  87 

'  Dante,'  229,  230,  268,  269 

Darbyshire,  A.,  93 

Davenport  Brothers,  29 

"  David  Copperfield,"  170 

Davis,  Alfred,  8,  9 

Davis,  Dr.,  275 

Davis,  L.  Clark,  157 

Day,  Philip,  29 

'  Dead  Heart,  The,'  207,  208,  265 

'  Deadman's  Point,'  50 

'  Dearer  than  Life,'  39 

'  Defence  of  Hamilton  Rowan,'  3 

Delaunay,  180,  290 

D'Enghien,  Due,  267 

Derby,  Lord,  155 

Desdemona,  120 

Desmoulins,  Camille,  184 

Dickens,  Charles,  3,  22,  36,  37,  38, 

44;  151,  209,  231,  259,  272,  276, 

284,  289,291,  292,  293 
Dickens,  Charles,  the  younger,  37 
Diderot,  183 
Digby  Grant  in  '  The  Two  Roses,' 

37 
Dillon,  Charles,  13 
Disraeli  {see  Beaconsfield,  Lord) 
'  Distant  Relations,'  84 
Dixie,  231 
'  Dr.  Faustus,'  192 
Dogberry,  144 
Doge's  Court,  270 


"  Dombey,"  37 

'  Don,  The,'  by  Herman  Merivale, 
209 

Donaldson,  Tom,  157 

'  Don  Quixote,'  55,  238,  239 

Dore,  Gustave,  235 

Doricourt  in  '  The  Belle's  Strata- 
gem,' 34,  35 

Dornton  in  'The  Road  to  Ruin,' 

38 
Dorrit,  45 
D'Orsay,  114 

'  Double  Marriage,  The,'  85 
Downing,  Robert  W.,  158 
Doyle,  Dr.  Conan,  237 
"  Drama,  The,"  249 
"  Dream  of  Eugene  Aram,"  47 
Drury  Lane,  20,  40,  70,  134,  197 
Dublin,  Queen's  Theatre,  16 
Dublin,  Theatre  Royal,  38,  83,  90 
Dublin  University,  170 
Dubosc,  39,  211,  288 
'  Due  Job,'  by  Got,  136 
Dudlay,  A.,  244 
Duke  of  Orleans,  9 
Diirer,  Albert,  172 

E 

Edinburgh  Lyceum,  155 
Edinburgh  Philosophical  Institute, 

170 
Edinburgh  Theatre  Royal,  12,  14, 

16 
Edward   Mortimer,  Sir,   in   '  The 

Iron  Chest,'  100,  loi 
"  Edwin  Drood,"  284 
Elaine,  234 
'  Elia,'  203,  216 
Eliot,  George,  36 
Elkington's,  104 
Ellison,  217 
Elliston,  58 
"Elsass"  life,  50 
Elsworthy,  Miss,  19 


INDEX 


311 


Emery,  Sam,  37 

Emery,  Miss  Winifred  (Mrs.  Cyril 

Maude),  92  ;  as  Marguerite,  177  ; 

in  'The  Two  Roses,'  136 
Emilia  in  'Othello,'  129 
Emmett,  Robert,  210 
"  Enchanted  Lake,  The,"  10 
Erckmann-Chatrian,  50 
'  Eugene  Aram,'  50,  55,   57,    170, 

210 
"  Eugene  Aram's  Dream,"  159 
'  Everyman,'  265 
Exeter,  Lord,  81 


'  Falcon,  The,'  by  Tennyson,  120 

Falkland  in  '  The  Rivals,'  39 

'  False    Shame,'    by  F.  Marshall, 

95 

'  Fanchette,'  48 

Faucit,  Helen,  13,  98  ;  as  lolanthe, 

m  ;  in  '  King  Rene's  Daughter,' 

no 
'  Faust,'  55,  104,  174-178,  187-189, 

233>  237.  265 
'  Faust  and  Marguerite,'  25 
Fawcett,  Miss,  151 
Fawcitt,  Amy,    44  ;   as   Lottie  in 

'  The  Two  Roses,'  135 
Feely,  Miss,  265 
Ferguson,  Dr.,  29 
Figaro,  The,  178 
Fitzwilliam,  Mrs.,  133 
Fladgate,  Mr.,  203 
'  Flying      Dutchman,      The,'     by 

Wagner,  75 
Forbes,    Norman,   as   Wilford   in 

'The  Iron  Chest,'  loi 
Ford,  Onslow,  193,  292 
'  Foresters,  The,'  223 
'  Formosa,'  by  Boucicault,  40 
Forster,  John,  55,  200 
Forster,  Mrs.  John,  72 
Fox,  Daniel  M.,  158 


Fox,  George  S.,  158 

Fox,  Miss  Hattie,  158 

French  Opera  Comique,  Burning 
of  the,  177 

Fun  and  "  The  Fashionable  Trage- 
dian," 68 

Furniss,  Harry,  266 


Gaiety  Theatre,  41 

Gambetta,  283 

'Gamester,  The,'  210 

Garrick,  27,  66,  72,  96,   140,  235, 

247,  285,  295 
Garrick  Club,  153,   180,  203,  290. 

293 
Garrick  Theatre,  108 

General  Theatrical  Fund   dinner, 

198 

'  Gentleman  Joe,'  25 

"  George,  The,"  72 

"  George  and  Vulture,"  3 

German,  Edward,  91,  219 

Gertrude  in  '  The  Little  Treasure,' 

85 
Gilbert,  188 

Giles  Overreach,  Sir,  100 
Gladstone,  120,  122,  153,  154,  155, 

241,  242,  290 
Glasgow,  Glover's  Theatre,  22 
"  God  be  with  you  till  we  meet 

again,"  274 
"  God  save  the  King,"  25 
Goethe,  141,  169,  170 
Goldsmith,  Oliver,  34 
Gosse,  E.  W.,  188 
Got,  130,  185 
Granville,  Lord,  242 
Gratiano    in    '  The    Merchant  of 

Venice,'  107 
Green,  Miss  K.  N.,  158 
Gregoire     in    '  The     Wandering 

Boys,'  14. 
Grossmith,  Weedon,  190 


312 


INDEX 


Guinevere,  234 
Gunter,  177,  286 
'  Guy  Fawkes,"  27 

H 

Hackney,  Mabel,  40,  265 

Halliday,  44 

'  Hamlet,'  29,  51,  60-63,  75,93,  HQ, 

151,  153,  185,  216,  291,  297 
Hare,  John,  86,  243,  295 
Harker,  220 
Harlow,  215 
Harpagon,  a,  185 
Harper's  Magazine,  181,  213 
Harris,  A.,  19,  90 
Harris,  Sir  Augustus,  240,  243 
Harvard  University,  170 
Harvey,  Martin,  63 
Hatton,  Joseph,  i,  2,  34,  155 
Haviland,  92,  231 
Haydon,  Judge  William,  157 
Haymarket,  40,  47,  85,  87,  133,  197 
Heath,  Miss,  22 
Henderson,  Alexander,  30 
'  Henry  IV,,'  297 
'  Henry  V.,'  297 
'Henry  VIH.,' 88,   119,   212,  213, 

214,  215,  216,  219,  224,  297 
Henry,  Sir  Thomas,  43 
Heraud,  37 

Herbert,  Miss,  31,  32,  38 
Hichens,  R,,  262 
Hicks,  Seymour,  294 
His  Majesty's  Theatre,  163 
Hobbes,  John  Oliver,  237 
Hollingshead,  John,  37,  131 
'  Home  for  the  Holidays,'  84 
Honey  as  the  Bagman,  44  ;  in  '  The 

Two  Roses,'  136 
'  Honeymoon,  The,'  6 
"  Hoo-Zure-Attar,"  9 
Hoskins,  7,  8 
Houghton's,     Lord,      opinion    of 

Booth's        Othello,       129-130  ; 


speech  at  Lyceum  supper,  108- 

IIO 

'  House  of  Darnley,'  86 

"  House  of  Mohere,"  243,  244 

Howard's,  Mr.,  theatre,  138 

Howe,  243 

Howe,    Henry,    35,  63,    133,    134, 

253 
Hudson  in  'Claudian,'  231 
Hughes,  Annie,  238 
Hugo,  Victor,  184,  240 
'  Hunchback,  The,'  131 
"  Hunted  Down,"  31,  32,  34,  35, 

36,37 
Hurst,  88 

Hutton,  Captain,  196 


lachimo,  255 

lago,  126,  127 

Ibsen,  243 

Illustrated  London  News,  37 

Imogen,  255 

"  Into  Thy  hands,  O  Lord,"  278, 
280 

'  lolanthe,'  iii 

'  Ion,'  4 

'  Iron  Chest,  The,'  by  Colman, 
100 

Irving,  Sir  Henry,  Alexander  and, 
135  ;  American  tours,  155,  187  ; 
anecdotes  of,  198 ;  attacks  on, 
68-71  ;  '  Becket,'  produces,  224- 
232  ;  '  Bells,'  in  the,  50-53  ; 
benefits,  131,  197  ;  birth  and 
family,  1-2 ;  Boucicault,  with 
Dion,  31-32  ;  business  life,  in, 
4  ;  character,  285-288  ;  '  Charles 
I.,'  in,  53-57  ;  connection  with 
Batemans  closed,  79  ;  '  Corsican 
Brothers,'  in  the,  113-118; 
Crosby  Hall,  at,  20-22 ;  '  Cup,' 
in  the,  120-122;  'Cymbeline,' 
produces,    255  ;    '  Dead    Heart,' 


INDEX 


313 


in  the,  207-209;  death,  280; 
dramatic  heirlooms,  receives, 
72  ;  Dublin,  at,  16-17  j  early 
taste  for  the  stage,  6-8 ;  Edin- 
burgh, at,  12-19 '  elocution  les- 
sons, 5  ;  '  Eugene  Aram,'  in,  58  ; 
'Faust,'  in,  172-177;  first  ap- 
pearance, 9-1 1 ;  French  appre- 
ciation of,  178-186,  281-284  ; 
funeral,  280-281  ;  Gaiety,  at  the, 
41 ;  Glasgow,  at,  22  ;  '  Hamlet,' 
in,  60-62,  93-96  ;  Haymarket,  at 
the,  40 ;  health,  244-246  ;  '  Henry 
VIII.,'  in,  213-219 ;  honours  from 
the  Universities,  69  ;  '  Hunch- 
back,' in  the,  132  ;  '  lolanthe,'  in, 
111-112;  'Iron  Chest,'  in  the, 
loo-ioi ;  Journalists'  Club,  at  the, 
157-160  ;  '  King  Arthur,'  in,  233- 
236  ;  '  King  Lear,'  in,  220-223  ; 
'  King  Rene's  Daughter,'  in,  no  ; 
knighthood,  240-244  ;  last  days, 
272-280;  'Louis  XI.,'  in,  73; 
Lyceum,  and  the,  47-50,  87-93, 
I 19-120,  123,  137,  270-271  ; 
'  Macbeth,'  in,  66,  67,  201-205  > 
'  Madame  Sans  Gene,'  in,  256  ; 
manager,  as,  80  ;  Manchester,  at, 
22-30  ;  Marlowe  Festival,  at  the, 
193  ;  marriage,  40  ;  '  Merchant 
of  Venice,'  in,  102-105  ;  '  Much 
Ado  About  Nothing,'  in,  147- 
150 ;  '  Medicine  Man,'  in  the, 
262;  'Olivia,'  in,  164-168; 
'Othello,'  in,  64,  126-130;  per- 
sonality, 288-292 ;  portraits,  153  ; 
Princess's,  at  the,  19  ;  profession, 
247-254  ;  '  Queen  Mary,'  in,  67  ; 
Queen's  Theatre,  at  the,  39 ; 
'  Ravenswood,'  in,  211 -212; 
readings,  206  ;  relics,  200  ;  re- 
vivals, 237;  'Richard  III.,'  in, 
72  ;  '  Richelieu,'  in,  59  ;  '  Robert 
Macaire,'  in,  190  ;  '  Robespierre,' 
in,  266-269  ;  '  Romeo  and  Juliet,' 


in,  140-146  ;  St.  James's  Hall,  at, 
154  ;  St.  James's  Theatre,  at  the, 
33-38  ;  school-days,  3  ;  Shakes- 
pearian revivals,  298  ;  '  Story  of 
Waterloo,'  in,  238-240  ;  Surrey 
Theatre,  at  the,  19  ;  Tennyson, 
and,  224  ;  Terry,  joined  by  Ellen, 
83  ;  tour,  on,  138-139  ;  troubles, 
257-264,  273  ;  '  Twelfth  Night,' 
in,  161-163  ;  'Two  Roses,'  in  the, 
42-45,  134,  137;  Universities, 
and  the,  151,  168-171  ;  '  Vander- 
decken,'  in,  76  ;  Walrus,  on  the, 
99-100  ;  '  Werner,'  in,  189 

Irving,  H.  B.,  40,  63 

Irving,  Laurence,  40,  319,243,  256, 
261,  265 

Islington  Theatre,  80 

'  It's  Never  Too  Late  to  Mend,'  86 

'  Ivy  Hall,'  19 

J 

Jack  Wyatt  in  '  The  Two  Roses,' 

42,  135 
Jacobi,  of  the  Alhambra,  91,  209 
Jacques,  The  Melancholy,  144 
Jacques  Strop  in  '  Robert  Macaire,' 

297 
James,    David,  42,    44 ;    in  '  The 

Two  Roses,'  135,  136 
'  Jane  Shore,'  by  Wills,  167 
'  Jealous  Wife,  The,'  2H 
Jefferson,  31 
'  Jeremy  Diddler,'  49,  58 
Jingle  in  '  Pickwick,'  49,  191 
Job  Trotter,  191 
Johnson,  Dr.,  49,  96,  203,  258 
Johnson,  Sam,  9,  87,  92 
Jones,  Henry  Arthur,  260 
Jones,  John  R.,  158 
Jones,  Miss,  158 
Joseph,  292 

Joseph  Surface,  197,  298 
Journalists'  Club,  157 


314 


INDEX 


'Journeys  End  in  Lovers'   Meet- 
ing,' 237 
'Juif  Polonais,  Le,'  50,  182 
Juliet,  141 
'  Julius  Caesar,'  195,  298 

K 

Kalb,  Mary,  244 

Katharine     in    '  Taming    of    the 

Shrew,'  85 
Kean,  Charles,  27,  63,  72,  73,  84, 

85.  113;  134'  188,  200,  203,  29s, 

298,  300 
Kean,  Edmund,  66,  157,  200 
Kean,  Mrs.  Charles,  202,  295,  300 
Keeley,  Louisa,  15 
Keeley,  Mrs.,  203 
Kemble,  27,  63,  66,  203,  204,  247 
Kembles,  The,  37,  109 
Kent,  223 

"  Kerneuzers,  The,"  196 
'  King  Arthur,'  234,  236,  237 
King's  Bench  Prison,  240 
'King  John,' 85 
'  King  Lear,'  119,  134,  220-223 
King  Philip  IL  in  'Queen  Mary,' 

120,  223,  292 
'King  Rene's  Daughter,'  no 
Knight,  Joseph,  37,  257 
Knowles,  Mr.,  31,  121 
Knowles,  Sheridan,  131 


Labouchere,  Henry,  39,  142,  242, 

286,  287 
Lacy,  Walter,  33,  34 
Lady  Macbeth,  66,  201,  203,  204 
*  Lady  of    Lyons,'   18,  20,  21,  58, 

86,97,  113 
Lamb,  Charles,  161,  163,  221,  223 
'  Lancashire  Lass,'  37 
Lancelot,  234 
Laurie,  Sir  Peter,  68 


'  Leah,'  46,  66 

Lee,  Richard,  37 

Leeford  in  '  Oliver  Twist,'  15 

Lemaitre,  190,  191,  301 

Leslie,  Mr.,  230 

Le  Thiere,  211 

Lewes,  George  Henry,  36 

Lewis,  Leopold,  50,  51 

"  Life  of  Dickens,"  209,  293 

Ligier,  185 

Lilian  Vavaseur  in  '  New  Men  and 

Old  Acres,'  86 
Liszt,  Abbe,  176,  177 
Litolf,  209 
'  Little  Bo-Peep,'  14 
'  Little  Dorrit,'  44 
'  Little  Toddlekins,'  6 
'  Little  Treasure,'  85 
'  Loan  of  a  Lover,  The,  15 
Loftus,  Miss  Cissie,  265 
Long's,  Edwin,  portraits  of  Irving, 

153,  291 
Lord  Chamberlain,  137 
Lottie  in  '  The  Two  Roses,'  135 
Lougherberg,  De,  235 
Louis  in  '  The  Corsican  Brothers,' 

115 
'  Louis  XL,'  73,  156,  157,  171,  184, 

185,  237,  257,  258,  304 

'  Louis  XHL,'  9,  184 

Loveday,  Miss  Ely,  9 

Loveday,  H.  J.,  9,  87,  88 

Lucas,  Seymour  J.,  189,  235 

Lyceum,  The,  9,  12,  46-48,  50,  51, 
55,  62,  71,  79,  80,  81,  88,  90,  91, 
92,  93>  95>  118,  119,  125,  126, 
137,  138,  140,  148,  152,  154,  164, 
165,  173,  177-179,  185,  187,  188, 
190,  192,  194,  195,  201,  203,  207, 
213,  216,  219,  221,  228,  239,  240, 
252,  253,  261,  265,  266,  270,  274, 
278,  286,  287,  295,  297 

Lyceum,  The  Sunderland,  8,  9, 
12 

Lyons,  The  Brothers,  80 


INDEX 


315 


'  Lyons  Mail,  The,'  or,  '  The  Cou- 
rier of  Lyons,'  72,  237,  258,  265, 
286 

Lyons  &  Co.,  W.  P.,  4 

Lytton,  Earl  of,  99 

Lytton,  Sir  E.  L.  Bulwer,  9,  53, 57, 
58,99 

M 

Mabel  Vane  in  '  Masks  and  Faces,' 

85,86 
'Macbeth,'  59,  65,  79,  119,  201,  203, 

204, 205, 206, 216, 217, 219, 237, 294 
Maccabe,  Frederic,  29 
Mackay,  Mrs.,  181 
Mackenzie,  Sir  A.,  91 
Mackintosh  as  Caleb  Balderstone, 

211 
Macklin,  92 

Macmillan's  Magazine,  145 
Macready,  66,   72,    188,  204,  249, 

295,  300 
'  Madame  Sans  Gene,'  by  Sardou, 

255,  258,  265 
'  Mdlle.  de  Bellisle,'  240 
Magnus,  Peter,  302 
Mahomet,  210 
'  Maid  and  the  Magpie,'  by  Byron, 

25 
Malvolio,  161-163,  239 

Mamilius  in  '  The  Winter's  Tale,' 

86 
Manchester,  Theatre  Royal,  22 
Manning,  Cardinal,  216,  291,  294 
'  Man  o'Airhe,  The,'  53 
March,  by  Liszt,  177 
Marguerite,  174 
Marlowe,  193 
Marquis  de  Cevennes  in  '  Plot  and 

Passion,'  15 
Marshall,  Frank,  95,  188,  210 
Marston,  Dr.  Westland,  188 
'  Masks  and  Faces,'  85,  86 
Mathews,  Charles,  13,  22 
Mathews,  the  Frank,  34 


Mathews,   Helen,   in    'The    Two 

Roses,'  136 
Mathias  in  'The  Bells,'  182, 186, 292 
Matthison,  Arthur,  115 
Maude,  Cyril,  296 
Maude,  Mrs.  Cyril,  92 
Maugiron  in  'Corsican  Brothers,' 

118 
Mayer,  Mr.,  181 
Mead  as  the   Ghost  in  '  Hamlet,' 

62  87 
Medici,  Lorenzo  de,  103 
'Medicine   Man,    The,'   by  Traill 

and  Hichens,  262 
'  Meg  Merrilies,'  67 
Meiningen,    Duke    of,    194;    per- 
formers, 290 
Meissonier,  165 
Melpomene,  259 
Mephistopheles,  25,  127,  129,  171, 

172,  173,  174,  175,  257,  260 
Mercutio,  144 
Merchant  of  Venice,'  86,  91,  96, 

100,  102,  III,  119,  171,  228,  237, 

253,  258,  265,  271 
Merivale,  Herman,  209 
Merlin,  236 
Middleton's  Witch,  79 
'  Middy  Ashore,'  14 
'  Midsummer  Night's   Dream,'  85, 

299 
Millais,  291 
Millward,  Miss,  149 
'  Mr.  Popple,'  249 
Mobbs,  Frederick  C.  P.,  279 
Modus  in  'The  Hunchback,'  131, 

132 
'  Money,'  19,  58,  86 
Montague,  Harry,  42,  45,  135 
Moore,  George,  237 
Moses  in  'The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,' 

166 
Mounet,  Paul,  244 
'  Mourir  pour  la  patrie,'  by  Varney, 

119 


316 


INDEX 


'Much  Ado  About  Nothing,'  85, 

156,  299 
Murray,  12 

N 

'  Nance  Oldfield,'  237 

Nancy,  211 

Napoleon  in  '  Madame  Sans  Gene,' 

256 
National  Review,  216 
Neilson,  Miss,  197 
Netie  Freie  Pnsse,  241 
'  New  Men  and  Old  Acres,'  86 
Newton,  Miss,  44 
'  Nicholas  Nickleby,'  15,  38,  69 
'  Not  Guilty,'  by  Watts  Phillips,  39 
'Notre   Dame,'  by  Victor    Hugo, 

240 

O 

Oakley,  Mr.  and  Mrs,,  in  '  The 
Jealous  Wife,'  211 

O'Callaghan,  Florence  (Lady  Ir- 
ving), 40 

O'Callaghan,  Surgeon  -  General 
Daniel  James,  40 

O'Hoolagan  in  'Rapid  Thaw,'  38 

'Old  Times,'  180 

Olivia  in  the  '  Vicar  of  Wakefield,' 
55,  86,  92,  164,  167 

'  Oliver  Twist,'  15 

'  Only  Way,  The,'  by  Wills,  265 

Ophelia,  300,  301 

'Othello,'  64,  70,  119,  126, 128,  132, 

133 

'  Ours,'  86 

Owen,  10 

Oxenford,  John,  35,  37 


Palais  Royal,  120 
Paris,  Theatre  des  Italiens,  39 
Pauline  in  'The  Lady  of  Lyons,' 
86,  97,  98 


Pauncefort,  Mrs,,  62,  92 
Penberthy,  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  i,  2 
Peter  Teazle,  Sir,  87 

'  Peter  the  Great,'  261 

'  Petite  Fadette,'  by  George  Sand, 
48 

'  Phedre,'  61 

Phelps,  Mr,,  5,  6,  7,  62,  197,  295 

'Phihp,'  by  Hamilton  Aide,  59,  67 

Philippa  Chester  in  '  The  Wander- 
ing Heir,'  85 

Phillips,  Miss  Kate,  92 

Phillips,  Watts,  39,  207 

'  Pickwick,'  49,  191,  251 

Pierson,  Blanche,  244 

Pigott,  Mr,,  63 

Pinches,  Dr,,  3 

Pinches,  Mr,,  154 

Pinero,  A,   W,,  87,  191,  237,  243, 
260 

Planche  burlesque,  138 

Players,  The,  20 

'  Playing  with  Fire,'  25 

Pollock,  Campbell,  290 

Pollock,  Sir  Frederick,  180,  290 

Pollock,  Walter,  72,  180,  183,  196, 
207,  216 

Portia,  86,  103,  106,  107 

Posthumus  in  '  Twelfth  Night,'  255 

Prince  of  Wales,   The,  153,  173, 
181,  196,  228,  293 

Prince  of  Wales's  Theatre,  78,  85, 
86 

Princess's  Theatre,  19,  85, 113, 119, 

125 
Pritchard,  Mrs,,  203 
Prospero,  299 
Prout,  90 
Puck,  84,  85 

Q 

Quaritch,  Mr.,  104 
Queen  Katharine,  204,  214,  218 
'Queen    Mary,'   by  Tennyson,  67, 
79,  120,  223 


INDEX 


317 


Queen's  Theatre,  Long  Acre,  39, 

85 
Queen  Victoria,  123,  228,  229,  241, 
242 

R 

'  Race  for  a  Dinner/  49 
Raffaelle's  Loggia  at  the  Vatican, 

173 
'  Rapid  Thaw,'  38 

'  Ravenswood,'  by  Herman  Meri- 

vale,  209,  211,  212 

Rawdon   Scudamore   in   '  Hunted 


Down,' 


J-'  jj 


"  Real  Macbeth,  The,"  202 

Record,  247,  248 

Redburn  in  the  '  Lancashire  Lass,' 

39 
Rees,  Miss,  151 
Reeve,  W.,  31 

Reform  Club,  293 

Regnier,  136 

'  Regular  Fix,  A,"  57 

Reichemberg,  S.,  244 

Rejane,  Madame,  255,  256 

'  Rheingold,'  234 

'Richard  IL,'  299 

'Richard  IH.,'  51,  71,  72,  79,  153, 

170,  171,  257,  299 
'  RicheHeu,'  9,  46,  58,  59,  183,  184, 

225 
Rienzi,  210 
'  Road  to  Ruin,'  38 
'  Robert  Macaire,'  38,  188,  189,  190, 

192,  297 
Robertson,  38 
Robertson,  Forbes,  63,92,  loi,  149, 

234.  243 
'  Robespierre,'  265,  266,  269 
Robins,  Joe,  26,  27,  28 
Robson,  13,  191 
Rock,  247,  248 
Rodin   in  '  The  Wandering  Jew,' 

240 
'  Roman  Gladiator,  The,'  134 


'Romeo  and  Juliet,'  119,  137,  140, 

142,  145,  146,  148 
Rorke,  Mary,  192 
Rosamund,  Fair,  224 
'  Rosamunde,'  141 
Rosebery,  Lord,  242 
Rose    de     Beaurepaire    in    '  The 

Double  Marriage,'  85 
Rosellen's  "Reverie,"  119 
Royal  College  of  Music,  190 
'  Royal  Divorce,  The,'  167 
Royal  Family,  173 
Royal  Institution,  170 
Royalty  Theatre,  85 
Russell,  Edward,  4 
Russell,  Mr.,  145 
Ryder,  "Jack,"  66,  107 


Sadler's  Wells  Theatre,  5,  7 

St.  James's  Hall,  153,  206 

St.   James's  Theatre,  32,  33,  135, 

189 
Saker,  Edward,  19 
Salvini  as  Othello,  70 
Sande's  Theatre,  170 
Sandringham,  228 
Sarcey,  179 
Sardou,  250,  265,  268 
Sargent,  Mr.,  201,  293 
Sartoris,  Mrs.,  37 
"  Savages,  The,"  42 
'School  for  Scandal,'  38,  39,  197, 

249,  298 
Scott,  Clement,  115,  135 
Scott,  Sir  Walter,  85,  184,  263,  272 
Schubert's  '  Rosamunde,'  141 
Scruncher  in  '  Little  Bo-Peep,'  14 
Seymour,  49 

Shaw,  G.  Bernard,  241,  242 
Shepherd,  Mr.,  19,  280 
'  She  Stoops  to  Conquer,'  34 
Shylock,  79,  103,  107,  108,  109,  253, 

274.  304 


318 


INDEX 


Siddons  Mrs.,  20,  202,  218,  245 

Silvain,  244 

Simpson,  Palgrave,  195 

Siward  in  '  Macbeth,'  19 

Soho  Theatre,  6 

Sothern,  22,  29,  39 

Spectator,  281 

Sphere,  273 

'  Spring  Chicken,  The,'  249 

'  Spy,  The,'  25 

Stanfield,  235 

Stanford,  Sir  Charles,  91 

Stanford,  Professor,  227 

Stanley,  Dean,  281 

Steele,  Sir  Richard,  240 

'  Stefano  della  Bella,'  189 

'  Still  Waters  Run  Deep,'  85 

Stirling,  Arthur,  92 

Stirling,  Mrs.,  13,  91,  144,  175 

Stoker,  Bram,  87,  88,  138,  154,  157, 
213,  270,  287 

Stopel,  113,  119 

"  Story  of  Swordsmanship,"  196 

'Story  of  Waterloo,'  by  Conan 
Doyle,  237 

Strand  Theatre,  42 

'Stranger,  The,'  189,  203,  210 

Students'  Union  Dramatic  Society, 
16 

"Study  of  Hamlet,"  by  F.  Mar- 
shall, 95 

Sue's  '  Wandering  Jew,'  240 

Sullivan,  Sir  Arthur,  91,  234 

Sully,  Mounet,  180,  244,  282,  290 

Surrey  Theatre,  19 

Susan  Merton  in  '  It's  Never  Too 
Late  to  Mend,'  86 

Swinburne,  62,  87,  188 


Tait,  Lawson,  219 
"  Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  209,  265 
'  Taming  of  the  Shrew,'  85,  211 
Taylor,  Tom,  32,  33,  102 


'  Tempest,  The,'  299 

Tenniel,  Sir  John,  235 

Tennyson,  Lord,  119,  120,  121, 122, 
188,  223,  224,  229,  233,  258 

Terriss,  William,  92,  115,  163,  243  ; 
as  Mercutio,  144 ;  as  the  Squire 
in  the  'Vicar  of  Wakefield,'  168  ; 
in  '  Becket,'  225  ;  in  '  Robert 
Macaire,'  190 

Terry,  Edward,  163,  243,  296 

Terry,  Ellen,  39,  77,  92,  237,  292, 
295  ;  American  tour,  155-156  ; 
as  Beatrice,  150 ;  as  Camma  in 
'The  Cup,'  122  ;  as  Desdemona, 
127-129  ;  as  Guinevere,  234  ;  as 
Imogen,  255  ;  as  lolanthe,  11 1  ; 
as  Juliet,  145  :  as  Lady  Macbeth, 
201  ;  as  Madame  Sans  Gene, 
256  ;  as  Marguerite,  174-176  ;  as 
Olivia,  164,  167,  168  ;  as  Pauline 
in  '  The  Lady  of  Lyons,'  98,  99  ; 
as  Queen  Katharine,  218  ;  as 
Viola,  161,  163  ;  debut  at  the 
Lyceum,  94  ;  early  record,  85, 
86  ;  in  'Amber  Heart,'  188,  192  ; 
in  '  Becket,'  225,  227,  228 ;  in 
'  Robert  Macaire,'  190;  in '  Robes- 
pierre,' 266  ;  in  '  The  Hunch- 
back,' 132  ;  joins  Irving,  83,  84  ; 
Reade's  appreciation,  204,  205  ; 
Reading,  a,  207,  211  ;  separation 
from  Irving,  258,  259 

Terry,  Kate,  32,  84 

Terry,  Minnie,  85 

Thacker,  Messrs.,  4,  5 

Theatre,  The,  85 

Theatre  Historique,  1 19 

Theodore  of  Corsica,  240 

"  Thirty  Years  of  a  Gambler's 
Life,"  113 

Thomas,  Henry,  5 

Thomas,  Moy,  37 

Thorne,  42,  44,  134 

'  Three  Weeks  After  Marriage,'  211 

Times,  The,  10,  304 


INDEX 


319 


Titian,  103 

Tobias,  Joseph  F.,  157 

Tobin,  6 

'  Toby,  Sir,'  162 

Tomlins,  37 

'  Tommy's  First  Love,'  159 

Tonnish  in  '  Middy  Ashore,'  14 

Tony  Lumpkin,  162 

Toole,  13,  15,  18,  22,  29,  39,  41,  69, 

190,  198,  209,  243,  297 
Traill,  H.  D.,  2C2 

Tree,  Beerbohm,  164,  243,  296,  300 
Trinity  College,  Dublin,  69,  170 
'  Troilus  and  Cressida,'  232 
'  Turn  of  the  Tide,'  50 
'Twelfth  Night,'  119,  161,  255,  299 
'Two  Orphans,'  113 
'Two  Roses,'   by  Albery,  43,  50, 

134.  303 
Tyars,  92,  174 

U 

'  Uncle,  The,'  3 

'  Uncle  Dick's  Darling,'  41 


Valentine  in  '  Faust,'  175 

Vandenhoff,  13 

'  Vanderdecken,'  55,  75,  76,  231 

Vandyke,  56 

Varney,  119 

Vaudeville  Theatre,  50 

Vaughan,  Cardinal,  294 

'Venice  Preserved,'  211,  240 

Veronese,  Paolo,  103 

Verrio,  103 

Vestris,  Madame,  93,  138,  173 

Vezin,  Herman,  53,  165 

'Vicar  of  Wakefield,'  55,  86,  225, 

295.  304 
'Victoire,'  113 
Villiers,  Charles,  203 
Viola,  i6i 


Virginia,  72 

'  Virginius,'  20,  72 

W 

Wagner,  75 
Walrus,  The,  99 
'  Wandering  Boys,'  14 
'  Wandering  Heir,  The,'  85 
'  Wandering  Jew,  The,'  240 
Ward,  Miss  Genevieve,  92 
Warding,  Horace,  157 
Warner,  Charles,  80 
Waterloo  Chamber,  228 
Webb,  The  Brothers,  16 
Webster,  "  Ben,"  13,  47,  197.  207 
Wenman,  92 

'Werner,'  by  Byron,  188,  189 
Westminster  Abbey,  271,  280,  281 
Westpoint,  171 

Whistler's   Portrait  of    Irving  as 
Philip  IL,  67,  153,  223,  291,  292 
'Wife's  Secret,'  by  Marston,  188 
Wigan,  Alfred,  115 
Wilford  in  'The  Iron  Chest,'  loi 

Wills,  53,  54.  55.  57.  75-  76,  HQ, 
191,  209,  210,  239,  265,  303  ; 
'  Don  Quixote,'  238  ;  '  Faust,' 
172  ;  '  lolanthe,'  m  ;  'Jane 
Shore,'  167;  'Olivia,'  164,  166; 
'  Royal  Divorce,'  167  ;  '  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,'  86 

'Winter's  Tale,  A,'  10,  11,  86,  211 

Wolsey,  214-217,  225 

Woolgar,  Miss,  133 

Worms,  B.  Baretta,  244 

Worms,  G.,  244 

Wright,  13 

Wyndham,  Sir  Charles,  243,  296 

Wyndham,  Robert,  12,  15 

Wyndham,  Mrs.  R.,  12,  15 

Wynne-Mathieson,  Miss  E.,  265 


'  Young  Couple,'  46 


"Cbe  ©rcsbam  press, 

UNWIN  BROTHERS,  LIMITED, 
WOKING  AND  LONDON. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA   AT   LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

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